on, half-suffocated, flung him almost at
arm's length from him. Then the ground seemed to slip away beneath
him, and he wound an arm about his adversary as he smote again.

Faint as he was with the blow, Alton did not, however, strive to shake
him off now, but grappled with him the more closely, and next moment
they had rolled crashing through a juniper. Then the other man came
down undermost and struck a stone, there was a swift glissade over
rattling shingle and through smashing undergrowth, and Alton lay still
alone, while something rolled on down the slope beneath him, until
hearing a splash below he rose with a little hoarse cry and swung
himself off the ledge which had arrested him. He rolled over several
times, but came down, as he discovered later, whole in limb, for he
could think of nothing then as he groped in and out amidst the pools
and boulders for his enemy. When he found him the man lay with his
face apparently in the water, and only moaned a little when Alton shook
him.

Then suddenly his passion fell from him, and with a gentleness that was
in no way akin to pity he dragged the limp body from the water, and sat
down to wait for morning with the wet head upon his knee. The morning
was also a very long while coming, but at last, when the stars were
paling and the dark pines slowly grew into shape and form, there was a
sound of footsteps on the heights above and a voice he recognized came
down:

"Come right along. Here's his fire, but the man has gone."

"Charley!" cried Alton, and there was an exclamation of astonishment
followed by a scrambling, and presently Seaforth stopped with a little
gasp by his comrade. Alton's face showed drawn and grey in the
creeping light, and there was another more blanched one in the wet fern
beside him.

"Good Lord!" said Seaforth. "What's the meaning of this, Harry?"

"Look at him," said Alton gravely. "You should know him. I think this
is the third time."

"Damer!" said Seaforth hoarsely. "We were trailing him, and knew he
couldn't be far off when we saw your fire. We took it for his. Is he
dead?"

"No," said Alton gravely, "I hope not. We have some use for him. Go
back and get the lariat, and we'll try to heave him up."

CHAPTER XXXII

ALTON HOLDS HIS HAND

It was very quiet and somewhat chilly in the little back room of
Horton's hotel when Damer, who lay on a trestle-cot, moved his head a
trifle and made a feeble sign. The fire had