ys a gelding; it's always one price, and it always has a flaw.
I looked the one over that ran to-day and couldn't see anything wrong,
though."

"Cow-hocked," said Connor, breathing hard. "Go on!"

"Dad made up his mind that the reason they didn't sell more horses was
because the owner only sold to weed out his stock."

"Wait," said Connor, tapping on the table to make his point. "Do I
gather that the only Eden Grays that are sold are the poorest of the
lot?"

"That was Dad's idea."

"Go on," said Connor.

"You're excited?"

But he answered quickly: "Well, one of those grays beat me out of a
hundred dollars. I can't help being interested."

He detached his watch-charm from its catch and began to finger it
carelessly; it was the head of an ape carved in ivory yellowed with age.

The girl watched, fascinated, but she made no mention of it, for the jaw
of the gambler was set in a hard line, and she felt, subconsciously, a
widening distance between them.

"Does the deaf-mute own the horses?" he was asking.

"I suppose so."

"This sounds like a regular catechism, doesn't it?"

"I don't mind. Come to think of it, everything about the grays is queer.
Well, I've never seen this man, but do you know what I think? That he
lives off there in the mountains by himself because he's a sort of
religious fanatic."

"Religion? Crazy, maybe."

"Maybe."

"What's his religion?"

"I don't know," said the girl coldly. "After you jerk lightning for a
while, you aren't interested much in religion."

He nodded, not quite sure of her position, but now her face darkened and
she went on, gathering interest in the subject.

"Oh, I've heard 'em rave about the God that made the earth and the stars
and all that stuff; the mountains, too. I've heard 'em die asking for
mercy and praising God. That's the way Dad went. It was drink that got
him. But I'm for facts only. Far as I can see, when people come up
against a thing they can't understand they just close their eyes and
say, God! And when they're due to die, sometimes they're afraid and they
say, God--because they think they're going out like a snuffed lantern
and never will be lighted again."

The gambler sat with his chin buried in his palm, and from beneath a
heavy frown he studied the girl.

"I don't hold malice more than the next one," said the girl, "but I saw
Dad; and I've been sick of religion ever since. Besides, how do you
explain the rotten things that happen in t