Anyway, if the beasts hold out we'll be getting breakfast at Somasco in two hours or so." Seaforth groaned inwardly, but, knowing the futility of argument, shook his bridle and rode on, lurching a little in his saddle as the tired horse stumbled into mudholes and, brushed through dripping fern.

By and by, however, Alton swung himself down in front of a lonely log-house with a big clearing behind it, where a man took their horses without a word and signed them to enter.
Seaforth stretched his limbs wearily, and would have dropped into a chair but that Alton stood erect until the man came back again, and dusting two seats with his soft hat pointed to them with a gesture of hospitality.

His hair and beard were frosted, his face was lean and brown, and there were many wrinkles about his eyes, but he held himself very upright and pointed to the stove.
"Ye'll be in from Vancouver.

I'll ready ye some pork and flapjacks ?" he said.
Alton shook his head.

"Don't worry, I can't wait," he said.
"Ye are very welcome," said the other.
"Of course!" said Alton simply; "still, I can't stop.