flattered. No other person at the table had been favored with so much
of the tall cow-puncher's notice. He responded, and they had a pleasant
talk. I did not divine that the Virginian's genius was even then at
work, and that all this was part of his satanic strategy. But Steve must
have divined it. For while a few of us still sat finishing our supper,
that facetious horseman returned from doctoring his horse's hoofs, put
his head into the dining room, took in the way in which the Virginian
was engaging his victim in conversation, remarked aloud, "I've lost!"
and closed the door again.

"What's he lost?" inquired the American drummer.

"Oh, you mustn't mind him," drawled the Virginian. "He's one of those
box-head jokers goes around openin' and shuttin' doors that-a-way. We
call him harmless. Well," he broke off, "I reckon I'll go smoke. Not
allowed in hyeh?" This last he addressed to the landlady, with especial
gentleness. She shook her head, and her eyes followed him as he went
out.

Left to myself I meditated for some time upon my lodging for the night,
and smoked a cigar for consolation as I walked about. It was not a hotel
that we had supped in. Hotel at Medicine Bow there appeared to be none.
But connected with the eating-house was that place where, according
to Steve, the beds were all taken, and there I went to see for myself.
Steve had spoken the truth. It was a single apartment containing four or
five beds, and nothing else whatever. And when I looked at these beds,
my sorrow that I could sleep in none of them grew less. To be alone in
one offered no temptation, and as for this courtesy of the country, this
doubling up--!

"Well, they have got ahead of us." This was the Virginian standing at my
elbow.

I assented.

"They have staked out their claims," he added.

In this public sleeping room they had done what one does to secure a
seat in a railroad train. Upon each bed, as notice of occupancy, lay
some article of travel or of dress. As we stood there, the two Jews came
in and opened and arranged their valises, and folded and refolded their
linen dusters. Then a railroad employee entered and began to go to bed
at this hour, before dusk had wholly darkened into night. For him, going
to bed meant removing his boots and placing his overalls and waistcoat
beneath his pillow. He had no coat. His work began at three in the
morning; and even as we still talked he began to snore.

"The man that keeps the stor