Alton of Somasco | Page 2

there was a swaying and plunging of
man and beast amidst the hurled-up snow. Then the Cayuse was borne
backwards until the vicinity of the hotel verandah left no room for
kicking, and another man hastily flung a rope round the bundles he
piled upon its back. He was also tolerably capable, and in another
minute the struggle was over. The Cayuse's attitude expressed
indignant astonishment, while Alton stood up breathless, with his

knuckles bleeding.
"I'll trouble you for that dollar, and I'll keep him now," he said. "Can
you wait until I come down next week, Carter?"
"Oh, yes," said the rancher. "Your promise is good enough for a year or
two."
The speaker was a sinewy bushman in curiously patched overalls with a
bronzed and honest face, and he turned aside with a little gesture of
dislike, when a man of a very different stamp pushed by him. The latter
wore a black felt hat and a great fur-lined coat, while his face was pale
and fleshy and his eyes were cunning. His appearance suggested
prosperity and a life of indulgence in the cities, and when he stopped in
front of Alton the latter would have lost little by any comparison
between the pair. The pose of his sinewy figure and the clear
brownness of his skin spoke of arduous labour, sound sleep, and the
vigour that comes from a healthful occupation. The steady directness of
his gaze and quiet immobility of his face also conveyed an indefinite
suggestion of power and endurance, and there was a curious grace in
his movements when he turned courteously towards the stranger.
"You soon fixed him, packer," said the city man.
Alton laughed. "The boys mostly call me rancher," said he. "Still, it
don't count for much, and I do some packing occasionally."
"That's all right," said the stranger sharply, for there was something in
Alton's answer which made him inclined to assert his dignity.
"Everybody seems to be a rancher hereaway, and you mayn't be too
proud to put through a job for me."
Alton nodded, and glanced at the speaker questioningly.
"No. If it would fit in," he said.
"I'm Hallam," said the other man. "Hallam and Vose, of the Tyee
mineral claim. They've been fooling things up yonder, big pump's

given out, and I've a few hundred pounds of engine fixings back at the
railroad I want brought in by to-morrow."
Alton glanced at the pack-beasts waiting unloaded outside the store,
and shook his head. "I'm sorry I can't trade with you," he said. "You see,
I've promised another man to pack up some stores for him."
Hallam made a gesture of impatience. "Then you can let him wait," he
said. "This deal will pay you better. You can put your own price on it."
Alton's eyelids came down a little, and the stranger seemed to find his
glance disconcerting. "You don't seem to understand. I promised the
other man to bring up his things," he said.
"Well," said Hallam, "come along into the shanty yonder, and have a
drink with me. We may fix up some way of getting over the difficulty."
"Sorry!" said Alton with a suspicious quietness. "I don't drink much,
anyway, and then only with the boys who know me."
"Hey!" said Hallam. "You are talking like a condemned Englishman."
"I can't help that," said Alton. "I am a Canadian, but if you want
another reason, it wouldn't suit me to drink with you, anyway. You see,
you didn't do the square thing with one or two friends of mine who
worked on the Tyee."
He turned on his heel, and Hallam, who was a man of some importance
in the cities, gasped with astonishment and indignation.
"What is that fellow?" he said.
The man laughed, and answered him in the bushman's slowest drawl.
"You don't know much, or you wouldn't ask," said he. "He's Alton of
Somasco, but if he lives long enough he will be one of the biggest men
in this country."
Hallam said nothing, but there was a curious look in his face which
puzzled the rancher. It suggested that he had heard of Alton, and

something more.
Meanwhile Alton entered the store, where the man who kept it pointed
to a litter of packages strewn about the floor and sundry bags upon the
counter.
"That's Townshead's lot, and those are Thomson's things," he said, and
turned aside to listen to a rancher who came in smiling.
Alton took up a big cotton bag marked Townshead, tossed it aloft and
caught it, and then shook his head dubiously. "That's rather too light for
ten pounds. You want to try her on the scales again," he said.
The storekeeper, who was also a magistrate, grinned good-humouredly.
"It's good enough for the money, anyway," said