He went away because he had a suspicion that Alton would be wanting him, which was borne out when he found his comrade saddling a horse.
"Where are you going, Harry? We are not half way through with the sawlogs," he said.
"No," said Alton dryly. "Still, if you work hard enough, you and Tom should get them into the water before it's dark to-night. I'm going right down to Horton's."
Seaforth laughed. "I thought you would. Horton has, however, as much taste in china as the average mule. Don't leave it to him."
"How did you guess that?" and Alton stared at him.
"That," said Seaforth, "was delightfully simple. It is a little more difficult to decide what Miss Deringham, who is a quick-witted young woman, did with the tea. As you are quite aware, she did not drink it. Still, that is not the question. I'll write you out a little list of what is wanted—I used to know a little about china once, you see, and you tell Horton to send it on to Vancouver. How much would you care to spend, Harry?"
"Just whatever is necessary, but get the best," said Alton. "Write another list of cakes and jellies and things of that kind, too. Put down plenty."
Seaforth returned by the time the horse was saddled, with an envelope, and Alton, who took it, rode out at a gallop, for it was a long way to the settlement, and the evenings at the ranch had of late become very pleasant to him. He did not wish to lose a minute of one of them. He drew bridle, however, when he came up with two men standing in the narrow trail, one of whom signed to him. He was a small rancher, but it was not until the impatient horse plunged that Alton recognized the other, who moved aside, as the man he had thrown into the river. The rancher saw the glance that passed between them.
"Hallo!" he said. "Then you two had trouble when you split? Now,
Damer was telling me he'd got kind of tired of saw milling."
Alton laughed. "That's quite likely," he said. "He showed it by breaking up my planer in a fit of temper, and I fired him."