Alton of Somasco | Page 8

of the doings of his
regiment now and then, sent her no word or token. A little flush crept
into her cheek as, remembering certain words of his, she glanced at her
reddened wrists and little toil-hardened hands. She who had been a
high-spirited girl with the world at her feet then, was now one of the
obscure toilers whose work was never done. Still, because it was only
on rare occasions that work left her leisure to think about herself, it had
not occurred to her that she had lost but little by the change. The hands
that had once been soft and white were now firm and brown, the
stillness of the great firs and cedars had given her a calm tranquillity in
place of restless haste, and frost and sun the clear, warm-tinted
complexion, while a look of strength and patience had replaced the
laughter in her hazel eyes.
Suddenly, however, there was a trampling in the snow and a sound of
voices, followed after, an interval by a knocking at the door. It swung
open, and two whitened objects loaded with bags and packages strode
into the room. The blast that came in with them set the lamp flickering,
and sent a chill through the girl, but she rose with a smile when rancher
Alton stood, a shapeless figure, with the moisture on his bronzed face,
beside the stove.
"Take those things through into the kitchen, Charley," he said. "I think
we've got them all, Miss Townshead. I hope, sir, you are feeling pretty
well."
Townshead made some answer with a slight bend of his head, but

Alton appeared a trifle dubious when the girl offered him hospitality.
"I'm afraid the beasts are used up, or I wouldn't think of it," he said.
Nellie Townshead's eyes twinkled as she glanced at him. "Could you
not have put it in another way?" she said.
Alton laughed, and brushed his fingers across the top of the stove.
"Well, it doesn't sound quite right, but after all the meaning's the great
thing," he said. "This place isn't warm enough for you, Miss Nellie."
He turned and walked to the wood-box, and after glancing into it
carefully straightened out its covering. Then he strode towards the door,
and stopped a moment before he opened it. "Excuse!" he said simply.
"No, don't you worry; I know just where the saw and lantern are, and
Charley, who comes from the old country, can talk to you for me."
He went out in another moment, but the fact that he was very weary did
not escape the attention of the girl, who also noticed the absence of any
unnecessary questions or explanations. Alton was, she knew already,
one who did things the better because he did them silently. Still, it was
Seaforth whom, when nobody observed her, her eyes rested most upon.
It was half an hour before the former returned with a load of scented
firewood upon his back, and, saying nothing, filled the box with it,
packing each piece where it best fitted deliberately but swiftly; then he
passed through the room into an adjoining one, and returned attired
picturesquely in Jack Townshead's overalls, which were distinctly too
small for him. By this time supper was ready, and Seaforth, also
dressed in borrowed garments, seated at the table, but though Miss
Townshead had not lost the stamp of refinement she brought with her
from England. and her father was dignified and precise, Alton showed
no embarrassment. He also listened patiently to Townshead's views on
ranching and the mining prospects of that region, though he was
already looked up to as a master of the former industry, and contrived
meanwhile that the girl made a good meal instead of attending to him.
When it was finished he unfolded a carefully wrapped up packet, and
took an envelope out of it, though Miss Townshead noticed that several

others he laid down were crumpled and wet.
"Here is a letter for you," he said.
He glanced at the girl questioningly as she took it up, and fingered one
of the envelopes upon the table. "Excuse?" he said.
Nellie Townshead smiled and nodded, and then, knowing that the
communication handed her was of no importance, watched him
covertly as he tore open a long blue envelope. There were documents
inside it, and the man's fingers shook a little as he spread out one of
them. Then bewildered astonishment crept into his eyes, and was
replaced by a flash of something very like anger, after which his face
grew suddenly impassive, and he thrust the documents all together into
his pocket.
"Get up, Charley, and bring the tray along," he said.
Miss Townshead glanced at him sharply. "What do you wish to do?"
she said.
"Wash up," said