“Plenty water.  I’m figuring we’ll find Charley Seaforth somewhere here,” he said.  “The jumpers would have it drier, if they headed out from lower down the railroad over the bench country.”

Alton nodded as he listened to the roar of the river, which warned him that their road up the valley would be almost impassable.

“It can’t be helped,” he said, and Tom of Okanagan, who saw how grim his face had grown, understood the reason.  If Hallam’s emissaries had gone up before them any further delay might cost Alton the mine.

Nothing was said for another minute, and then Okanagan pointed to a dim smear of vapour below them that was a little bluer than the mist.

“Smoke.  Charley’s held up by the river,” he said.

They went on in moody silence, knowing that where the hardy ranchers Seaforth had with him had failed there was little probability of any man forcing a passage, and presently the smell of burning firwood came up to them through the rain.  Then a red flicker appeared and vanished amidst the dusky trunks, and in another few minutes Alton was shaking his comrade’s hand.  The faces of both of them were unusually grave, and there was dejection in the growl of greeting from the men, who sat half seen amidst the smoke watching them.

“That’s the whole of us,” said Seaforth, who noticed his comrade’s glance.  “We can’t get on.”

“How long have you been here?” said Alton, with significant quietness.

“Two days.  It’s unfortunate you didn’t come earlier, Harry, because we could have got right through a week ago.  Was it the leg that kept you?”

“No,” said Alton, with a little mirthless laugh, “it wasn’t the leg.  I should have come, but one can’t always do two things at once, and I had to choose.  I’ve a good deal to tell you.”

Seaforth glanced sharply at his comrade.  “I fancied you had.  You are not the man I left at Vancouver, Harry.  Well, you will be hungry, and supper’s almost ready.”

It was several hours later, and the men in the bigger tent were fast asleep, when Seaforth and Alton sat swathed in clammy blankets under a little canvas shelter.  The drip from the great branches above beat upon it, and the red light of the snapping fire shone in upon the men.  Neither of them had spoken for some time, but at last Alton laid down his pipe.

“This is a thing I wouldn’t tell to any man if it could be helped, but as you will hear it told the wrong way when you get back to the city, you have got to know,” he said.  “I’d have been where I was wanted if it hadn’t happened, and now I can’t help feeling I have given you and the rest away.  It hurts me, Charley, but what could I do?  It would have been worse to let two women suffer for my condemned folly.”

Seaforth was in no mood for laughter, but his eyes twinkled faintly.  “Two of them?  You have been getting on tolerably fast down there, Harry.”