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Updated: June 26, 2025
"He is almost good enough, anyway," he said wearily. When all the guests had gone Deringham came upon his daughter alone. "I noticed Mr. Alton was not effusive," he said. "No," said the girl languidly, though there was a curious expression in her eyes. "I do not remember that he told much beyond the fact that he would be a cripple all his life. He mentioned it twice."
The town of Alton, in the state of Illinois, is a little south of that rock where the Piasa dragons were seen. As the explorers moved ahead on glassy waters, they looked back, and the line of vision changing, they saw that the figures were cut into the cliff and painted in hollow relief.
Then he said slowly, "You'll have to go down and look for her while I push on, Charley." Seaforth was about to speak, but he saw his comrade's eyes and did not express himself as he had meant to. "Yes," he said. "I don't know that I shall find her." The two men looked at each other, until Alton moved his head. "Still, one of us must try," he said. "Take all you can carry, and a rifle.
A wet wind which drove the vapours before it called up wild music from the cedars that loomed through them on the side of the hill. "I'd cast across the rush at the head of the pool and let the fly come down," said Alton. "There's generally a big trout lying in the eddy behind the boulder." The girl nodded, and the line sweeping back towards the pines behind her went forward again.
"But how did he get there?" and Seaforth felt a little chill strike through him. Alton grasped his arm, and his voice was harsher still. "This is the second time." "Good Lord!" said Seaforth, who understood him, huskily. "Well," said Alton, "I think the thing's quite plain. If we could get down to the poor beast I figure we'd find something that had no business there under the girth or saddle.
A line of villages from Alton to Peoria dotted the woodland which the Illinois River had stretched, like a green baldric, diagonally across the bosom of the State. Then there were long reaches of wilderness before you came to Fort Dearborn, where there was nothing as yet to give promise of that miraculous growth which was soon to make Chicago a proverb to the world.
It was, of course, hopeless for Ada, the daughter of a retired farmer who could not sell his farm, to come into close social contact with the local aristocracy, which consisted at this time of the Stearns and Frost relationship together with a few well-to-do merchants from B who had always lived in Alton and owned those large semi-suburban estates in its environs.
Autumn was merging into winter when one morning Alton and his comrade strolled along the water-front at Vancouver. It was still early, and the store and office clerks were just hastening to their occupations, but Alton had spent an hour already in a great sawmill. His face was thoughtful, and he seemed to be repeating details of machines and engines half aloud.
Alton, however, went past the stairway as though he did not see it, moving clumsily, with a limp that pained the girl more than his face had done. Then he turned and she felt her heart beat faster, for there was a change in him when he came back again. He stopped and stood still close by her. "You must try to forgive me but it hurt," he said.
A brightness flashed into his eyes and sank out of them again. "Come in and sit down," she said, "I have seen very little of you lately, and you seem tired. Half-an-hour's casual chatter will do you no harm, although it may appear to you a terrible waste of time." Alton came in and dropped into a chair which creaked beneath him.
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