"I'll try a verse, old man."

"The last one--we'd just come to the last. It's most like
church. I--I never went--much on religion, Bud; but when a
fellow's--going out over the Big Divide."

"You're not!" Thurston contradicted fiercely, as if that could
make it different. He thought he could not bear those jerky
sentences.

"All right--Bud. We won't fight over it. Go ahead. The last
verse."

Thurston eased his leg to a better position, drew himself up
till his shoulders rested against the rock and began, with an
occasional, odd break in his voice:

"I saw the holy city

Beside the tideless Sea;

The light of God was on its street

The gates were open wide.

And all who would might enter

And no one was denied."

"Wonder if that there--applies--to bone-headed-- cowpunchers,"