The rancher nodded, and Alton got a tighter grip on the bridle.  Then the Cayuse rose upright with fore-hoofs lifted, and the man’s arm was drawn back to strike.  The hoofs came down harmlessly, but the fist got home, and for a moment or two there was a swaying and plunging of man and beast amidst the hurled-up snow.  Then the Cayuse was borne backwards until the vicinity of the hotel verandah left no room for kicking, and another man hastily flung a rope round the bundles he piled upon its back.  He was also tolerably capable, and in another minute the struggle was over.  The Cayuse’s attitude expressed indignant astonishment, while Alton stood up breathless, with his knuckles bleeding.

“I’ll trouble you for that dollar, and I’ll keep him now,” he said.  “Can you wait until I come down next week, Carter?”

“Oh, yes,” said the rancher.  “Your promise is good enough for a year or two.”

The speaker was a sinewy bushman in curiously patched overalls with a bronzed and honest face, and he turned aside with a little gesture of dislike, when a man of a very different stamp pushed by him.  The latter wore a black felt hat and a great fur-lined coat, while his face was pale and fleshy and his eyes were cunning.  His appearance suggested prosperity and a life of indulgence in the cities, and when he stopped in front of Alton the latter would have lost little by any comparison between the pair.  The pose of his sinewy figure and the clear brownness of his skin spoke of arduous labour, sound sleep, and the vigour that comes from a healthful occupation.  The steady directness of his gaze and quiet immobility of his face also conveyed an indefinite suggestion of power and endurance, and there was a curious grace in his movements when he turned courteously towards the stranger.

“You soon fixed him, packer,” said the city man.

Alton laughed.  “The boys mostly call me rancher,” said he.  “Still, it don’t count for much, and I do some packing occasionally.”

“That’s all right,” said the stranger sharply, for there was something in Alton’s answer which made him inclined to assert his dignity.  “Everybody seems to be a rancher hereaway, and you mayn’t be too proud to put through a job for me.”

Alton nodded, and glanced at the speaker questioningly.

“No.  If it would fit in,” he said.

“I’m Hallam,” said the other man.  “Hallam and Vose, of the Tyee mineral claim.  They’ve been fooling things up yonder, big pump’s given out, and I’ve a few hundred pounds of engine fixings back at the railroad I want brought in by to-morrow.”

Alton glanced at the pack-beasts waiting unloaded outside the store, and shook his head.  “I’m sorry I can’t trade with you,” he said.  “You see, I’ve promised another man to pack up some stores for him.”

Hallam made a gesture of impatience.  “Then you can let him wait,” he said.  “This deal will pay you better.  You can put your own price on it.”