"It may have been yours one time. It's ours now," he said. "There's no getting over the laws of this country."
Seaforth expected an outbreak, and heard a growl from his comrades, who commenced to close in behind him, but Alton only closed one hand a little.
"Where's the man who brought you here?" he said.
"Gone out," said the other, "to record the claim. Now we don't want any unpleasantness, but the mine is ours, and there are enough of us to keep it, you see. Come in and have some supper, and take it reasonably."
Alton looked at him for a space out of half-closed eyes, and the man appeared to grow uneasy.
"You condemned jumper! These are honest men," he said, pointing to those who followed him. "We'll go back and camp up yonder, boys."
It was close on midnight when Seaforth crept up to Alton, who lay huddled against a cedar in the smoke of the fire. His face showed drawn and puckered in the flickering light.
"Don't take it too hard, Harry," he said.
Alton smothered a groan. "I'm feeling very mean tonight," he said. "Lord, what a mess I've made of everything. Every ranch in Somasco mortgaged to the last rod, the new mill not finished, roads half made, and not another dollar to be had in the city. And there's not a man or woman who believed in me but I've dragged them down."
"I think," said Seaforth, "they believe in you still. You did all that any man could have done, Harry."