at each other for half a minute.

"I'm afraid I can't go quite as far as that," he replied, and laughed
harshly. "As it stands recorded, the land could be transferred to
anyone by Waynefleet. Any way, it seems to be in his block. Phelps
cites the boundary-posts."

Nasmyth closed one hand tight. Waynefleet, who had found the constant
wetting too much for him, had left the canyon a week or two before this
morning, on which it was evident a crisis of some sort was near. He
had complained of severe pains in his back and joints, and had sent
them no word after his departure.

"Is there anything from him?" asked Nasmyth.

Gordon picked out an envelope and opened it. "Here's a note from Miss
Waynefleet. She desires you to ride across at once."

With a troubled face Nasmyth stood still in the rain another minute.

"I'll take the pack-horse and start now," he said after a brief
silence. "When I have seen Miss Waynefleet, I'll go right on to
Victoria." He turned and gazed at the river. "If one could get into
the heading by any means, I'd fire every stick of giant-powder in it
first. Unfortunately, the thing is out of the question."

In a few moments he was scrambling up the gully, and Gordon, who went
into the shanty and lighted his pipe, sat gazing at the letters very
thoughtfully. They had no money to spare for any legal expenses.
Indeed, he was far from sure they had enough to supply them with
powder and provisions until their task was accomplished. During the
long grim fight in the canyon they had borne almost all that could be
expected of flesh and blood, and it was unthinkable that the city man,
who sat snug in his office and plotted, should lay grasping hands upon
the profit. Still, that seemed possible now that somebody had betrayed
them.

Meantime, Nasmyth had swung himself into the pack-saddle, and, in the
rain, was scrambling up the rocky slopes of the divide. He had not
changed his clothing, and it would have availed him little if he had,
since there was a long day's ride before him. The trail was a little
easier than it had been, for each man who led the pack-horse along it
had hewn through some obstacle, but it was still sufficiently
difficult, and every here and there a frothing torrent swept across
it. There were slopes of wet rock to be scrambled over, several
leagues of dripping forest thick with undergrowth that clung about the
narrow trail to be floundered through, and all the time the great
splashe