small in the distance

The foreman did not move when Scipio came in, and this humorous spirit smiled to himself. "It's Bear Creek he's havin' a vision of," he concluded. But he knew instantly that this was not so. The Virginian was looking at something real, and Scipio went to the window to see for himself. "Well," he said, having seen, "when is he going to leave us?" The foreman continued looking at two horsemen riding together. Their shapes, small in the distance, showed black against the universal whiteness. "When d' yu' figure he'll leave us?" repeated Scipio. "He," murmured the Virginian, always watching the distant horsemen; and again, "he." Scipio sprawled down, familiarly, across a chair. He and the Virginian had come to know each other very well since that first meeting at Medora. They were birds many of whose feathers were the same, and the Virginian often talked to Scipio without reserve. Consequently, Scipio now understood those two syllables that the Virginian had pronounced precisely as though the sentences which lay between them had been fully expressed. "Hm," he remarked. "Well, one will be a gain, and the other won't be no loss." "Poor Shorty!" said the Virginian. "Poor fool!" Scipio was less compassionate. "No," he persisted, "I ain't sorry for him. Any man old enough to have hair on his face ought to see through Trampas." The Virginian looked out of the window again, and watched Shorty and Trampas as they rode in the distance. "Shorty is kind to animals," he said. "He has gentled that hawss Pedro he bought with his first money. Gentled him wonderful. When a man is kind to dumb animals, I always say he had got some good in him." "Yes," Scipio reluctantly admitted. "Yes. But I always did hate a fool."

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