oor beast I figure we'd find something that had no
business there under the girth or saddle. The rest is simpler--a
little coal oil or giant powder, and--just at the turning yonder--a
lariat across the trail. That man knows his business, Charley."

"Good Lord!" said Seaforth once more. "It's devilish, Harry. You're
not going to tell anybody, and repeat the mistake you made?"

"Yes," said Alton grimly. "That's just what I figure on doing."

"But," and Seaforth's horror was evident, "he may try again. There are
more than the Somasco ranchers who would be sorry if--he was
successful--Harry."

Alton laughed, but the grating cachination sent a shiver through his
companion. "Yes," he said, "I think he will, and that's why I'm
waiting. He may give himself away the third time, and then it will be
either him or me."

Seaforth stood silent for almost a minute. "If you would only listen
to me--but of course you will not. Can't you see that you are in the
way of somebody who stands behind that man?"

"Yes," and Alton's smile was now quietly grim. "It don't take much
genius to figure out that. Before I'm through I'll know just who he
is, and all about him."

Once more Seaforth was silent a space. Then he spoke very slowly.
"Are you sure you're wise?"

Alton gripped his comrade's arm so that he winced with pain. "It's the
second time you've asked me that," he said. "There will not be room
for you and me in this province if you ask it me again."

Seaforth shook his grasp off. "You are my partner, Harry, and the only
friend I have. God send you safe through with it. Now, is there any
use in looking for the fellow with the lariat?"

"No," said Alton in his usual voice. "There isn't. He would have been
waiting up there ready to whip the thing away, and by this time he has
doubled back down the trail. If you met a man riding along quietly
what could you do to him?"

"It's devilish," said Seaforth, as a fit of impotent anger shook him.

"Oh, yes," said Alton languidly. "Still, there isn't much use in
slinging names, and I'm kind of tired. Help me up into your saddle,
and lead the beast by the bridle. We'll head for Gordon's."

CHAPTER XXV

ALTON IS SILENT

There is a ridge of rising ground on the outskirts of Vancouver City
where a few years ago a pretty wooden house stood beneath the pines.
They rose sombrely behind it, but the axe had let in the sunlight
between the rise and the water, and one c