“Still, what we’re working for is bound to come, and we’ll hold on somehow until it does,” he said to Forel, who occasionally remonstrated with him.  “When you’ve helped me to put the new loan through I’ll bring Charley or the other man down, and go up and relocate the claim.  After the late snowfall nobody could get through the ranges now, but Tom and I could make our way when it wouldn’t be possible to any of Hallam’s men.”

Possibly because he had been successful hitherto, Alton was slightly over-sanguine, and apt to make too small allowance in his calculations for contingencies in which human foresight and tenacity of purpose may not avail.  It happened in the meanwhile, though he was, of course, not aware of this, that Deringham had an interview with Hallam in the smoking-room of the big C.P.R. hotel.  They did not enter it together, for Deringham was sitting there when Hallam came in, about the time the Atlantic express was starting, which accounted for the fact that there was nobody else present.  Deringham appeared a trifle too much at his ease, though his face was pale, for he had not departed from veracity when he informed Forel that his heart had troubled him after listening to Seaforth’s story.  He nodded to Hallam, and picked out a fresh cigar from the box upon the table before he spoke.

“It is fine weather,” he said.

“Oh, yes,” said Hallam dryly.  “Still, I guess you didn’t ask me to come here and talk about the climate.”

“No,” and Deringham glanced at his cigar.  “I meant to tell you that the little speculation you recently mentioned does not commend itself to me.  In fact, I have decided that we can have no more dealings of any description together.”

“No?” said Hallam, with a little brutal laugh.  “Dollars running out?”

Deringham glanced at him languidly.  “As you know, that is not the reason.  Now I do not ask for a return of the money you obtained from me—­but I want the thing stopped immediately.”

Hallam poured out a glass of wine.  “You will have to put it straight.”

“Well,” said Deringham, “if you insist.  I am sincerely sorry I ever saw or heard of you.  You, of course, remember the conditions on which I made that deal with you.  I desired Mr. Alton kept away from Somasco—­for a time, and now I want a definite promise from you that he will be free from any further molestation.”

“Then,” said Hallam, with a grin, “what’s your programme if I don’t agree?  You would put the police on to me?”

“No,” said Deringham, making the best play he could, though he realized the weakness of his hand.  “That would not appear advisable—­or necessary.  It would be simpler to warn my kinsman.”

Hallam laid his hand upon the table, and Deringham noticed that it was coarse and ill-shaped, but suggested a brutal tenacity of grasp.