He stood with the half-melted snow he had fallen in clinging about his deerskin jacket and trickling slowly down his tattered leggings, the bridle of the worn-out horse in his hand and a slight perplexity in his eyes.
"Now, I wonder if that will make a road to the south," he said reflectively, pointing to the canon.
"I don't know," said Seaforth dryly.

"So far as my opinion goes, I scarcely think it will; but isn't that a little outside the question?
Just now a road to the north would be more to the purpose." "Well," said Alton, "a few sticks of giant powder here and there would make a difference, and one could do a good deal with a few score of men used to the pick and drill." "It would also," said Seaforth, "take a good many dollars to pay them." Alton laughed as he turned, and pointed upstream, Darkness was not far away, and the river came down deep and slow out of the dimness.

Dark pines rolled up the hillsides that shut it in, and wisps of grey vapour drifted about them.
"There are," he said, "dollars enough to build a road right down to Vancouver in those hills, and by and by one of two men will have his hands on them." "Isn't that a somewhat curious way of putting it ?" said his companion.
"Well," said Alton, "there is as usual a reason.

Whichever of those men comes out on top will not have much use for the other fellow.

In the meanwhile we'll be getting on.