pitiless persistency when Alton and Tom of Okanagan
came floundering down into the river valley. The roar of the canon
rose in great reverberations from out of the haze beneath them, and all
the pines were dripping, while the men struggled wearily knee-deep in
slush of snow. The spring which lingers in the North had come
suddenly, and a warm wind from the Pacific was melting the snow, so
that the hillsides ran water, and the torrents that had burst their
chains swirled frothing down every hollow.

The men were chilled to the backbone, for it had rained all day and
they had passed several nights sheltered only by the pines. Garments
and boots were sodden, and Alton's face was set and drawn, for though
he could now walk without much visible effort upon the level, a journey
through the ranges of that country would at any season test the
endurance of the strongest whole-limbed man, and his forced march had
only been accomplished by stubborn determination and disregard of pain.
Still, it was not physical distress alone which accounted for his
gravity. He had put off his journey to the latest moment, and now when
time was scanty the weather promised to further delay him. They had
stopped a moment breathless, when Okanagan broke the silence.

"Plenty water. I'm figuring we'll find Charley Seaforth somewhere
here," he said. "The jumpers would have it drier, if they headed out
from lower down the railroad over the bench country."

Alton nodded as he listened to the roar of the river, which warned him
that their road up the valley would be almost impassable.

"It can't be helped," he said, and Tom of Okanagan, who saw how grim
his face had grown, understood the reason. If Hallam's emissaries had
gone up before them any further delay might cost Alton the mine.

Nothing was said for another minute, and then Okanagan pointed to a dim
smear of vapour below them that was a little bluer than the mist.

"Smoke. Charley's held up by the river," he said.

They went on in moody silence, knowing that where the hardy ranchers
Seaforth had with him had failed there was little probability of any
man forcing a passage, and presently the smell of burning firwood came
up to them through the rain. Then a red flicker appeared and vanished
amidst the dusky trunks, and in another few minutes Alton was shaking
his comrade's hand. The faces of both of them were unusually grave,
and there was dejection in the growl of greeting from the