in his hand, and his
voice shook as he read disjointedly: "Vacant Crown lands. To all it
may concern. Mineral claim on left bank headwaters Somasco River in
unsurveyed territory, frontage declared to be----"

"Give it to me, or get on," Alton said hoarsely.

The paper was shaking visibly. "Is declared to be on or after 12 P.M.
on the date undermentioned eligible for relocation," and Forel ended
with a little gasp, "You have lost it, Harry."

Alton was on his feet by this time and snatching out his watch. "No,
by the Lord!" he said. "I've still rather a better chance than most
other men. Head straight for the freight traffic man, Charley, and
tell him I'm going up with the fast Atlantic freight they're sending
our empty cars back on. Forel, run across and send in your
stenographer. There are lots of things I've got to do, and the freight
will be going out in an hour or so."

Nellie Seaforth laughed a little. "Then Mr. Forel will not have time,
and there's another woman anxious to do a little for Somasco. Give me
a pencil, Harry, and begin right away."

Alton only flung her a grateful glance, and dictated rapidly, until
Seaforth appeared in the doorway flushed with haste, when shouting his
thanks after him he ran down the stairway.

Nellie Seaforth laughed a little. "Good fortune go with him. That is
Alton--of Somasco," she said. "I wonder whether he will remember to
put on his hat."

"I don't think it's likely," said her husband. "Nellie, I can't help
wondering if you were right just now."

Mrs. Seaforth smiled at him curiously. "It was right I did," she said.
"Possibly the distinction is too fine for you, but I think the future
will justify me."

Then she drew off her gloves, and endeavoured to remember only that she
had been considered a capable business lady.

Forel went up to Somasco next day, and one afternoon sat with his wife
and Miss Deringham upon the verandah of Horton's hotel. Horton himself
was pacing up and down, and a group of bronzed bush ranchers stood in
the dust below. They spoke more rapidly than was usual with them,
their movements were curiously restless for impassive men, and their
eyes were fixed upon the shadowy trail that led down the valley beneath
the sombre pines. The afternoon was still, and a drowsy resinous
fragrance hung heavily about the hotel. There was no sound but the low
voices, and the murmur of sliding water in the distance.

Alice Deringham was pale