lton wore deerskin and jean, with the shovel
girded about him in place of the sword; but she knew there was in him
the same spirit that animated them, and that it was a silent spirit
made most terribly manifest in action.

"I hope you will have a good time down there," he said.

The girl glancing at him in sidelong fashion noticed his curious little
smile. "Oh, yes, I think I shall," she said. "I shall expect to hear
you have come back with the silver."

Alton nodded. "Yes," he said. "When I come back I shall have found
the silver."

He spoke quietly, and there was nothing unusual in his voice, but
glancing at his eyes the girl understood what he had left unspoken. If
this man did not return with his object accomplished, she felt it would
be because he would not come back at all.

Then there was another silence more oppressive still, until Alton held
out his hand. "I must be going," he said.

Alice Deringham was conscious of a little thrill as her fingers rested
in his big, hard palm, and when he released them waited for a moment
with a curious expectancy.

"You will take my good wishes with you," she said.

Alton bent his head. "I am doing this thing because I feel I have to,"
he said very slowly. "I could come and see you at Vancouver when I
come back?"

The light was dim, but the girl moved her head a little so that the man
did not see her face. "Yes," she said; "if it would please you."

Alton smiled gravely as he swung down his wet hat. "Then," he said, "I
will come."

He went down the stairway next moment, there was a soft thud of hoofs
splashing in the mud, and in another minute he had gone, and Alice
Deringham glancing towards the bush saw only sliding mist and driving
rain, until her father stopped close by her. "There is evidently a
good deal in heredity," he said. "Our rancher kinsman occasionally
makes it very evident that he is Alton--of Somasco--but there are also
times when he appears to understand what would be becoming in Alton of
Carnaby."

Now Deringham may have been right, and he may equally have been wrong;
for, while Alton of Somasco had doubtless inherited something from the
generations of land-holders who had gone before him, the man animated
by a single purpose who has grappled with untrammelled nature, subduing
the weaknesses of his body, and bearing hardship, peril, and toil, not
infrequently attains to something of the greatness which is the
birthright of humanity,