"It's a good twelve months since he sent a dollar to me." Alton laughed a little.

"I can wait," he said.

"Fill that bag up again.

Get hold of the truck, Charley." Charles Seaforth, who was apparently younger, and certainly a trifle more fastidious about his attire than his comrade, shouldered a flour bag, and twenty minutes later he and Alton tramped out of the settlement with three loaded beasts splashing and floundering in front of them.

It was almost dark now, though a line of snow still glimmered white and cold high up beyond the trees until the trail plunged into the blackness of the forest.