Alice Deringham could not afterwards quite decide why she shook hands with him, for she had no intention of teaching him anything, just then; but she did, and felt as the hard brown fingers closed upon her own that the friendship of this curious man could in time of necessity be relied upon. In any case, and obeying some impulse, she shook off her chilliness, and asking questions about the district evinced a gracious interest in all he had to tell her, while presently induced by his naive frankness she smiled at him as she noticed him regarding her gravely.

"I presume a dress of this kind is scarcely suitable for the bush," she said.

Alton laughed. "I wasn't looking at the dress, though it's a very pretty one," he said. "You see, except my mother and Miss Townshead, I have never spoken to an English lady."

"But you must have been very young when you lost her," said the girl.

Alton took off his hat, and pointed to a hillside shrouded with sombre firs. "Yes," he said quietly. "She sleeps up there, and in a little while my father followed her. He was lonely without her, and because of what she had done for him, proud of his countrywomen. He often used to talk about them."

"And," said Alice Deringham, "you wondered if he was mistaken?"

Alton made a little gesture that in a curious fashion implied a wide chivalric faith. "No," he said gravely, "I believe he was right."

Miss Deringham felt a faint warmth creep into her cheek, and it was not because the speech might have been deemed a personal compliment. She saw a little deeper into the man's nature than that, and, if she had not, the tone of grave respect would have enlightened her. Then she turned with a little sense of relief as Deringham came out upon the verandah.

"I am pleased to see you and Mr. Alton have made friends," he said, and the girl, who noticed a faint twinkle in his eyes, turned quietly and looked down the valley as she remembered one odious clause in the will.

She rose early next morning, and flinging the window open to let in the glorious freshness heard a commotion below, while as she wondered as to the cause of it several pairs of old boots went gyrating over the balustrade of the verandah. A dilapidated saddle followed them, and then a cloud of dust rolled up, while she saw the new owner of Carnaby appear somewhat scantily attired out of the midst of it. He had a brush in one hand and seemed disturbed about something.

"Where the brimstone does Mrs. Margery keep the scrubbing soap?" he said.

Nobody answered him, and he moved back into the dust, while Seaforth was coming up the stairway carrying a mop and pail when a big empty oilcan smote him upon the chest. He dropped the pail and leaned a moment, gasping and dripping, against the balustrade.

"You might notice where you're throwing things," he said.

The dust rolled more thickly, and Alton's voice came out of it. "I hadn't time to be particular, and a sensible man would have got out of the way of it. Don't stand there, anyway, but help me fix this place fit for a lady before Miss Deringham gets up. Then you're going through to the railroad with the new pack-horse to wire for Mrs.

Margery after breakfast."

"I don't think I am," said Seaforth. "Not on Julius Caesar, anyway.

He will need a little more taming before I'm fit to ride him."

"Then," said Alton, laughing, "I guess you can shove him, because you'll want a horse to bring up the things you're going to wire Vancouver for, and Tom's off with the teams up the valley. Fetch some more water, and start in with the scrubbing. I don't want Miss Deringham to guess we've been doing anything unusual."

"If she doesn't hear you," said Seaforth, "she must be very deaf."

"Now," said Alton regretfully, "I never thought of that. Sit right down, Charley, and take your boots off."

"I am going to the well first," said Seaforth, who retired grinning, and Miss Deringham laughed softly as she heard the cautious movements of a big barefooted man floundering about clumsily with a brush or mop.

When she came down to breakfast, however, she was a little astonished.

The room was swept, and garnished with cedar sprays, while though it smelled of some crude soap the aromatic sweetness of balsam was present too, and there were signs of taste in its decoration and the disposition of the splendid fruit upon the table. Alton had not plucked it all, and the golden apples and velvety peaches lay with their soft tinting enhanced amidst the leaves. When he came in, bright of eye and apparently glowing from a plunge in the river, she glanced at him with quiet amusement.

"You have been improving the place wonderfully," she said.

"You are pleased with it?" said the rancher, and the girl noticed the contentment in his eyes when she smiled approvingly.

"I think," she said, "it is very pretty."

CHAPTER VII

ALTON BLUNDERS

Deringham spent several weeks at Somasco without arriving at any understanding with its owner. This, however, did not cause him any great concern, because he had at his doctor's recommendation decided on a somewhat lengthy absence from England, and found himself regaining health and vigour with every day he passed in the pleasant valley. He was also desirous of gaining time, because he had left negotiations for the formation of a company to take over an enterprise he was interested in in train, and, while these could proceed as well without him, a favourable termination would, by relieving him from immediate financial anxiety, enable him if it seemed advisable to adopt a firmer tone in any discussion respecting Carnaby. Alton had in the meanwhile quietly avoided the subject.

Affairs were in this position when he sat one evening with his daughter on the verandah, glancing now and then down the valley. It was very still and peaceful, and trails of white mist crept about the pines, while, though the paling light still lingered high up upon the snow, a crescent moon was growing into visibility against the steely blueness behind the eastern shoulder of a hill. Deringham, however, was listening for the thud of hoofs, and wondering if the mounted man sent down to the settlement would bring any letters for him. His daughter sat close by him, dreamily watching the darkness roll higher about the pines. She had not as yet grown tired of Somasco, and found its owner an interesting study. He was of a type that was new to her, and the girl of a somewhat inquiring disposition.

Presently she turned to her father. "How long shall we stay here?" she said.

"I don't know," said Deringham. "It depends upon the Canadian, and in the meanwhile I am picking up a good deal of useful information about the mineral resources of this country. Alton of Somasco seems to be a somewhat intelligent man."

"Yes," said the girl thoughtfully. "It is a little difficult to dislike him."

"I," said her father, smiling, "do not know that there is any great necessity, or notice signs of a marked endeavour on your part to do so."

The girl glanced at him inquiringly. "You mean?" said she.

"Nothing," said Deringham. "Only the Canadian is also a man. Well, we shall be going on to Vancouver presently."

The girl laughed a little. "That is incontrovertible," she said. "Why not go on now?"

"There are reasons," said Deringham somewhat gravely. "For one thing I hope to be in a position shortly to make terms with him."

"But Carnaby is his," said the girl.

"Yes," said Deringham, "unless he gives it up."

His daughter appeared thoughtful. "I scarcely think he will!"

Deringham laughed a little. "It might be possible to find means of inducing him."

Alice Deringham shook her head. "From what I have seen of Mr. Alton, I fancy it would be difficult."

"Well," said Deringham dryly, "we shall see."

He had scarcely spoken when a soft drumming sound came out of the stillness. It grew steadily louder, was lost in the roar of the river, and rose more distinct again, while the girl, who realized that a man was riding up the valley, wondered with unusual curiosity what news he would bring. She also grew impatient, for that staccato drumming seemed to jar upon the harmonies of the evening, and she walked to the balustrade when the sound swelled into a thudding beat of hoofs. The man was crossing the oatfield at a gallop now. Then the sound rose muffled out of the gloom of the orchard the trail ran through, and she felt curiously expectant when once more the rider swung out into the shadowy clearing. She afterwards remembered the vague apprehension with which she watched and listened, for it seemed to her that some intangible peril was drawing nearer with the galloping horse. A minute or two later Seaforth came into the verandah with a packet of letters in his hand.

"There are several for you, sir," he said, handing Deringham some of them, and passed into the house shouting, "Harry."

Deringham glanced through his budget, and his face changed a little, while his daughter noticed the set of his lips and the clustering wrinkles about his eyes. There was a telegraphic message, but he put it aside and opened a bulky envelope whose stamp he recognized. Then the missive he took out rustled a little in his hand as he read:

"I'm afraid negotiations are not progressing well. Mortimer, as you will see by enclosed copies of correspondence, demands a revaluation which would not be advisable before he will underwrite any of the capital."

Deringham laid down the letter, and his daughter turned suddenly at his exclamation. "The fools should have bought him off!" he said.

Then he took up the telegraphic message and read, "Scheme impracticable. Cannot compromise with Mortimer. Harper and the Syndicate against us. Details following."