"I wonder," said Alice Deringham, "whether you know Mr. Alton of
Somasco."

"Oh, yes," said the man, with a little smile.

"You have worked for him possibly?" said the girl.

Harry the teamster nodded. "Considerably harder than I ever did for
anybody else," he said.

The next question required some consideration, and he appeared to
ruminate over it. "You mean what kind of man he is?" he said. "Well,
he's not very much to look at, and there are a good many things he
don't know."

"So I should have fancied," said the girl, more to herself than the
listener, and wondered whether it was an effect of the firelight or the
curious twinkle had once more flashed into his eyes. "You do not seem
to like him?" she said.

The man looked into the fire. "The trouble is I know how mean he is,"
he said.

"Mean?" said the girl. "That is niggardly?"

"No," said Harry; "I don't think he's niggardly. It's another word for
low down in this country. You see he has always had to work hard for a
living, and never had time to teach himself the nice little ways you
folks have in England. He's just a big rough rancher who has fought