een Harry taken that
way before," he said. "Still, we'll hope he'll be better to-morrow.
He has been through a good deal to-day."

Miss Townshead did not appear contented, but she changed the topic.
"Then what did you mean when you spoke about the dress packet?"

"I'll tell you," said Seaforth, "if you don't tell Harry. Well, when
the packet slipped down to the edge of the big drop I'm not sure that
the price of two ranches would have induced most men to follow it."

"But why did Mr. Alton go?" said the girl, with an expression which was
not quite the one the man had expected to see in her face.

Seaforth smiled. "He may have fancied you wanted it. Anyway, Harry is
a little obstinate occasionally, and when a thing looks difficult he
can't resist attempting it. In the language of my adopted country
that's the kind of man he is. Now I think I had better go after him,
because I fancy he wants soothing after that last speech of his."

CHAPTER III

HARRY THE TEAMSTER

The sun was on the hill slopes, and there was a dazzling glare of snow,
when Miss Alice Deringham stood with her travelling dress fluttering
about her on the platform of the observation car as the Pacific express
went thundering down a valley of British Columbia. The dress, which
was somewhat dusty, had cost her father a good deal of money, and the
hat that was sprinkled with cinders had come from Paris; while the
artistic simplicity of both had excited the envy of the two Winnipeg
ladies who, having failed to make friends with Miss Deringham during
the journey, now sat watching her disapprovingly in a corner of the
car. The girl was of a type as yet not common in Western Canada,
reserved, quietly imperious, and annoyingly free from any manifestation
of enthusiasm. She had also listened languidly to their most racy
stories with a somewhat tired look in her eyes.

They were, however, fine eyes of a violet blue, and gold hair with a
warmer tinge in it clustered about the broad white forehead, while the
rest of the girl's face was refined in its modelling, if a trifle cold
in expression and colouring. Miss Deringham was also tall, and as she
stood with one little hand on the rail and the other on the brim of the
hat the wind would have torn away from her, her pose displayed a
daintily-proportioned figure. The girl was, however, as oblivious of
her companions as she was of the dust, and her eyes were at last keen
with wonder. She had seen