"But I guess one of them drummers will let yu' double up with
him." Steve was enjoying himself, I think. He had his saddle and
blankets, and beds were nothing to him.

"Drummers, are they?" asked the Virginian.

"Two Jews handling cigars, one American with consumption killer,
and a Dutchman with jew'lry."

The Virginian set down my valise, and seemed to meditate. "I did
want a bed to-night," he murmured gently.

"Well," Steve suggested, "the American looks like he washed the
oftenest."

"That's of no consequence to me," observed the Southerner.

"Guess it'll be when yu' see 'em."

"Oh, I'm meaning something different. I wanted a bed to myself."

"Then you'll have to build one."

"Bet yu' I have the Dutchman's."

"Take a man that won't scare. Bet yu' drinks yu' can't have the
American's."

"Go yu'" said the Virginian. "I'll have his bed without any fuss.