“Colonist,” he said, and vanished suddenly.

Forel, who appeared glad of the diversion, picked up the paper, and then stood up.  “News at last,” he said excitedly.  “I fancied we would have had it first, but the news agency fellows have beaten us, Harry; it’s more than probable they’re going to rush the railroad through.”

Alton’s eyes glittered.  “Great news, but it will keep,” he said.  “No, don’t worry over any more of it.  Look at the notices.”

Forel folded back the sheet.  Then it rustled in his hand, and his voice shook as he read disjointedly:  “Vacant Crown lands.  To all it may concern.  Mineral claim on left bank headwaters Somasco River in unsurveyed territory, frontage declared to be——­”

“Give it to me, or get on,” Alton said hoarsely.

The paper was shaking visibly.  “Is declared to be on or after 12 P.M. on the date undermentioned eligible for relocation,” and Forel ended with a little gasp, “You have lost it, Harry.”

Alton was on his feet by this time and snatching out his watch.  “No, by the Lord!” he said.  “I’ve still rather a better chance than most other men.  Head straight for the freight traffic man, Charley, and tell him I’m going up with the fast Atlantic freight they’re sending our empty cars back on.  Forel, run across and send in your stenographer.  There are lots of things I’ve got to do, and the freight will be going out in an hour or so.”

Nellie Seaforth laughed a little.  “Then Mr. Forel will not have time, and there’s another woman anxious to do a little for Somasco.  Give me a pencil, Harry, and begin right away.”

Alton only flung her a grateful glance, and dictated rapidly, until Seaforth appeared in the doorway flushed with haste, when shouting his thanks after him he ran down the stairway.

Nellie Seaforth laughed a little.  “Good fortune go with him.  That is Alton—­of Somasco,” she said.  “I wonder whether he will remember to put on his hat.”

“I don’t think it’s likely,” said her husband.  “Nellie, I can’t help wondering if you were right just now.”

Mrs. Seaforth smiled at him curiously.  “It was right I did,” she said.  “Possibly the distinction is too fine for you, but I think the future will justify me.”

Then she drew off her gloves, and endeavoured to remember only that she had been considered a capable business lady.

Forel went up to Somasco next day, and one afternoon sat with his wife and Miss Deringham upon the verandah of Horton’s hotel.  Horton himself was pacing up and down, and a group of bronzed bush ranchers stood in the dust below.  They spoke more rapidly than was usual with them, their movements were curiously restless for impassive men, and their eyes were fixed upon the shadowy trail that led down the valley beneath the sombre pines.  The afternoon was still, and a drowsy resinous fragrance hung heavily about the hotel.  There was no sound but the low voices, and the murmur of sliding water in the distance.