hollow. Alice Deringham saw it, and drinking in the wonderful
freshness that came down from the peaks and permeated the silence of
the valley, realized a little of that great white rampart's awful
serenity. She also wondered vacantly what the two men on the verandah
were talking about; but in this she was wrong, for Hallam, overcharged
with Western vivacity, was talking, and her father waiting quietly.

"No," said the former, returning to the subject with an affectation of
naive directness. "I don't like Alton, and I figure he don't like me.
Nothing wrong with the man that I know of, but I'm not fond of anybody
who gets in my way, and Alton of Somasco has taken out timber rights
all over the valley where we're running the Tyee. He got in with his
claim a day or two ahead of me."

"A capable man?" said Deringham quietly.

"Oh, yes," said the other. "He's capable, so far as he sees, but the
trouble is he doesn't see quite far enough. Now, there's not room
enough for two men with notions round about Somasco, and a one-horse
rancher can't fight men with money, so Alton's got hold of a good deal
bigger contract than he can carry through. Anyway, now I've told you
what I think of your relation, you can if you feel like that let right
go of me."

Deringham smiled a little. "This," he said, "is the best whisky I have
tasted in Canada."

Hallam laughed. "Well," he said, "I'm glad I met you, especially as
you'll no doubt stop here a little, and size up the mineral resources
of the country. There's lots of information lying round that should be