“That,” said the girl, “does not sound possible.”

Alton nodded.  “No,” he said.  “Still, one gets taught up there in the bush that there’s more in a man than what some folks think of as his reason.  Well, we made a tough fight, and were beaten.”

Miss Deringham glanced at him covertly, and noticing his quiet, bronzed face, steady eyes, and big brown hands, felt that the struggle had been very grim and stubborn.  “So you gave it up?” she said.

“Yes,” said Alton, “for a time, and I had my hands full with other things when Jimmy went back again.  He had piled up a few dollars and left the woman behind him.  He took the trail with a good outfit and a pack-horse, but he didn’t come down again, and when Mrs. Jimmy got anxious I went up to look for him.  It was a good while before I found him sitting under a pine, and he had found the silver, though it wasn’t much use to him.”

“Was it a rich vein?” said the girl.

“Yes,” said Alton solemnly, “I think it was, from the specimens he had brought along, but, and it’s difficult sometimes to see why things should happen that way, he couldn’t tell me where it was.  Jimmy was dead, you see.”

The girl shivered visibly.  “It must have been horrible.”

“No,” said Alton gravely.  “He was sitting there very quiet in the snow with his hand frozen on the rifle, and there was a big dead panther not far away; but I was more sorry for Mrs. Jimmy than I was for him.  Jimmy hadn’t always been a trail-chopper, and one could see he had been carrying a heavy load he brought out from the old country.  I think he was tired.”

“And the silver still lies hidden up there?” said Miss Deringham.

Alton nodded.  “Yes,” he said.  “I’ve hunted for it twice, but couldn’t find Jimmy’s trail.  By and by, and because the woman wants it, I’m going back again.”

“But it would belong to anybody who found it now,” said Miss Deringham.

“No,” said Alton quietly.  “A half of what I get there belongs to Mrs. Jimmy.  The dead man has a claim.”

“I am not sure that most men would think so.  You are generous,” said the girl.

“No,” said Alton.  “I’m just where I can, and it hurts me to owe anybody anything, whether it’s a favour, or the other thing.”

Miss Deringham understood him, and reflected as she glanced at him out of the corners of her eyes that her father would do well if he dealt openly with this man.  She fancied he could be remorseless in a reckoning, and she had now and then of late had unpleasant suspicions respecting Deringham’s intentions concerning him.