through dripping fern. By
and by, however, Alton swung himself down in front of a lonely
log-house with a big clearing behind it, where a man took their horses
without a word and signed them to enter.

Seaforth stretched his limbs wearily, and would have dropped into a
chair but that Alton stood erect until the man came back again, and
dusting two seats with his soft hat pointed to them with a gesture of
hospitality. His hair and beard were frosted, his face was lean and
brown, and there were many wrinkles about his eyes, but he held himself
very upright and pointed to the stove.

"Ye'll be in from Vancouver. I'll ready ye some pork and flapjacks?"
he said.

Alton shook his head. "Don't worry, I can't wait," he said.

"Ye are very welcome," said the other.

"Of course!" said Alton simply; "still, I can't stop. I'm here to talk
business, Callender."

Seaforth noticed that in face of the typical absence of protest or
compliment there was nothing the most critical could find fault with in
the invitation or the refusal. The old man was dressed in very
curiously-patched jean, but he was almost stately in his simplicity,
and nothing could have been more apposite than the little nod with
which Alton made his affirmation. It implied a good deal more than
speech could have done.

"Ye will be asking about the place?" said Callender. "I'm wanting
three thousand dollars. It's worth all that."

Alton nodded, and it was evident that the men understood each other,
for there was no endeavour to lessen or enhance the value of the
property. "It will be worth more presently, but that's about the fair
thing now," he said.

"Weel," said Callender simply, "by then I may be dead. Twenty years
I've lived on my lone here, and I thought at one time I would be
content to lie down by between the bush and the river, but now a
longing to see the old land grips me. Ye will not understand it. Ye
were born in Canada."

"No," said Alton gravely. "The land that has fed me is good enough for
me."

The old man made a little gesture of assent. "Aye," he said. "It's a
good country, but I feel the old one calling me. It's just three
thousand dollars I'm asking ye."

Alton drew a sheet which seemed covered with calculations from his
wallet, and glanced at it silently. Then he looked at the rancher.

"One thousand down, one thousand in six months, and the rest any time
in two years, with six per cent," he said. "You might ge