some frost from the pane and looked out to where the trooper in dog-skin
coat, gauntlets and cap, was mounting his broncho. The old man came and
stood near the young man,--the owner of the voice,--and said again: "He's
too ha'sh."

"Harsh you mean, father," added the other.

"Yes, harsh you mean, Old Brown Windsor,--quite harsh," said Pierre.

Alexander Windsor, storekeeper and general dealer, was sometimes called
"Old Brown Windsor" and sometimes "Old Aleck," to distinguish him from
his son, who was known as "Young Aleck."

As the old man walked back again to the stove to warm his hands, Young
Aleck continued: "He does his duty, that's all. If he doesn't wear kid
gloves while at it, it's his choice. He doesn't go beyond his duty.
You can bank on that. It would be hard to exceed that way out here."

"True, Young Aleck, so true; but then he wears gloves of iron, of ice.
That is not good. Sometime the glove will be too hard and cold on a
man's shoulder, and then!--Well, I should like to be there," said Pierre,
showing his white teeth.

Old Aleck shivered, and held his fingers where the stove was red hot.

The young man did not hear this speech; from the window he was watching
Sergeant Fones as he rode towards the Big Divide. Presently he said:
"He's going towards Humphrey's place. I--" He stopped, bent his brows,
caught one corner of his slight moustache between his teeth, and did not
stir a muscle until the Sergeant had passed over the Divide.