strong. In that brief passage with
Trampas it had been almost wholly absent. But different moods of the
spirit bring different qualities of utterance--where a man comes by
these naturally. The Virginian cashed in his checks.

"Awhile ago," said Steve, "you had won three months' salary."

"I'm still twenty dollars to the good," said the Virginian. "That's
better than breaking a laig."

Again, in some voiceless, masonic way, most people in that saloon had
become aware that something was in process of happening. Several left
their games and came to the front by the bar.

"If he ain't in bed yet--" mused the Virginian.

"I'll find out," said I. And I hurried across to the dim sleeping room,
happy to have a part in this.

They were all in bed; and in some beds two were sleeping. How they could
do it--but in those days I was fastidious. The American had come in
recently and was still awake.

"Thought you were to sleep at the store?" said he.

So then I invented a little lie, and explained that I was in search of
the Virginian.

"Better search the dives," said he. "These cow-boys don't get to town
often."

At this point I stumbled sharply over something.

"It's my box of Consumption Killer," explained the drummer; "Well, I
hope that man will stay out all night."

"Bed narrow?" I inquired.

"For two it is. And the pillows are mean. Takes both before you feel
anything's under your head."

He yawned, and I wished him pleasant dreams.

At my news the Virginian left the bar at once; and crossed to the
sleeping room. Steve and I followed softly, and behind us several
more strung out in an expectant line. "What is this going to be?" they
inquired curiously of each other. And upon learning the great novelty
of the event, they clustered with silence intense outside the door where
the Virginian had gone in.

We heard the voice of the drummer, cautioning his bed-fellow. "Don't
trip over the Killer," he was saying. "The Prince of Wales barked his
shin just now." It seemed my English clothes had earned me this title.

The boots of the Virginian were next heard to drop.

"Can yu' make out what he's at?" whispered Steve.

He was plainly undressing. The rip of swift unbuttoning told us that the
black-headed guy must now be removing his overalls.

"Why, thank yu', no," he was replying to a question of the drummer.
"Outside or in's all one to me."

"Then, if you'd just as soon take the wall--"

"Why, cert'nly." The