"Then I never got hold of the man himself. It was one of his agents I made the deal with, and there was nothing to be obtained from him. In fact, I could see no probability of getting any redress at all. It appears to be considered commendable to take the newly-arrived Britisher in." The other man smiled drily. "Well," he said, "some of them 'most seem to expect it. Ever think of trying the law against the principal?" "The law," said Brooke, "is apt to prove a very uncertain remedy, and I spent my last few dollars convincing myself that the ranch was worthless. Now, one confidence ought to warrant another. What has brought you into the bush? You do not belong to it." The stranger laughed. "There's not much bush in this country, from Kootenay to Caribou, I haven't wandered through. I used to live in it--quite a long while ago. I came up to look at a mine. I buy one up occasionally." "Isn't that a little risky?" "Well," said the other, with a little smile, "it depends. There are goods, like eggs and oranges, you don't want to keep." "And a good market in England for whatever the Colonials have no particular use for?" The stranger laughed good-humoredly. "Did you ever strike any real good salt pork in Canada?" "No," said Brooke, decisively, "I certainly never did." "Then where does the best bacon you get in England come from? Same with cheese--and other things." "Including mines?" "Well, when any of them look like paying it's generally your folk who get them. Know anything about the Dayspring?" "Not a great deal," Brooke said, guardedly. "I have been in the workings, and it is for sale." "Ore worth anything at the smelter?" Now Brooke was perfectly certain that such a man as his companion appeared to be would attach no great importance to any information obtained by chance from a stranger. "There is certainly a little good ore in it," he said, drily. "That is about all you mean to tell me?" "It is about all I know definitely." The stranger smiled curiously. "Well," he said, "I'm not going to worry you, and I guess I know a little more." Brooke changed the topic, and listened with growing interest, and a little astonishment, to his companion as they drove on. The man seemed acquainted with everything he could mention, including the sentiments of the insular English and the economics as well as the history of their country. He was even more astonished when, as they alighted before the little log hotel at the pine-shrouded settlement, the host greeted the stranger. "You'll be Mr. Devine who wrote me about the room and a saddle horse?" he said. "Yes," said the other man, who glanced at Brooke with a little whimsical smile, "you have addressed me quite correctly."