Alton’s eyes were half closed now, and there was a glint in them.  “I’ve been figuring on that,” he said.  “When I’m ready, I’ll let you see my hand.”

Now if Hallam had been taught his business, which was an especially mean one, in England he might have kept his temper; but he lacked finish, though his abilities were unpleasantly sufficient in the West.

“Then it is to be hoped you’ll put up a better game than you did at Townshead’s ranch.  I was a little sorry for the girl,” he said.  “Met her once or twice in Vancouver, and she didn’t seem well off.”

Alton said nothing, but he pressed his heels home, and the big tired horse moved forward.  The trail was narrow just there, and wound through a quaggy belt where tall wild cabbage grew out of black depths of mire.  There was also no room for Hallam to wheel his horse on the slippery sawn-up logs, and Alton urged his beast on, glancing imperturbably at the man in front of him.

Again the grey crept into Hallam’s face, and a very unpleasant look in his eyes, but he drew his bridle, and next moment his horse was floundering in the mire.  Alton laughed a little as he rode on without glancing behind him.

“That may have been pleasant,” said Seaforth dryly, “but in view of what I saw in Hallam’s face I don’t know that it was wise.”

“Well,” said Alton, “I think it was.  There’s only one way of arguing with a panther, and that beast’s a good deal less dangerous than Hallam is.  Now you’ll ride in to the settlement to-morrow, and put up a notice at the store:  ’The ranchers of the Somasco district are requested to attend a meeting at 6.30, Saturday.’  At the bottom you’ll put a big ‘Important.’  I’ve got to have a talk with you to-night.”

He made a hasty breakfast when they reached the ranch, and was busy at the sawmill, from which he did not return until supper, all day, so that it was not until that meal was finished and he was waiting for Seaforth that he had speech with Miss Deringham.  She sat by the stove apparently occupied with some delicate embroidery, but it was possible that her attention was not confined to the stitches.  Alton sat near her, looking straight before him, in a deerhide chair, and it was significant that neither of them found speech necessary.  The man’s face was somewhat grim, and the girl wondered what he was thinking.

“You apparently did not find Vancouver enlivening,” she said.

Alton laughed a little.  “I took one or two little worries along, and found another when I got there.”

Miss Deringham went on with her embroidery for a While, and then glanced at the man again.  “I wonder if any of them were connected with the sale of Townshead’s ranch?” she said.

Alton smiled a little.  “I’m getting kind of afraid of you,” he said.  “One of them was.”

Alice Deringham laughed prettily, and was inwardly contented.  She had been used to influence and admiration, but there was a subtle pleasure in being the recipient of this man’s homage, while she surmised that had he not offered her all of it he would not have made the admission concerning Townshead.