Still the rain did not abate, and the afternoon was not quite spent when Alton pointed to a little cove.
"We haven't made much to-day, but unless you're anxious to go on that would make a good camping-place," he said deprecatingly.

"Now there was a time when I wouldn't have thought of stopping yet, but I guess too much good living has taken a little of the stiffening out of me." Seaforth slowly unclenched one hand from the red-smeared paddle-haft, and glanced at it.

"If you feel diffident, don't worry about me," he said.

"Eight hours' hard labour while you're wet through is, in my opinion, quite enough for anybody." Alton ran the canoe in, and Seaforth staggered a little when he walked ashore.

The water was draining from him, and it was several minutes before he could straighten himself.