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

"Why, cert'nly." There was a sound of bedclothes, and creaking.
"This hyeh pillo' needs a Southern climate," was the Virginian's
next observation.

Many listeners had now gathered at the door. The dealer and the
player were both here. The storekeeper was present, and I
recognized the agent of the Union Pacific Railroad among the
crowd. We made a large company, and I felt that trembling
sensation which is common when the cap of a camera is about to be
removed upon a group.

"I should think," said the drummer's voice, "that you'd feel your
knife and gun clean through that pillow."

"I do," responded the Virginian.

"I should think you'd put them on a chair and be comfortable."

"I'd be uncomfortable, then."

"Used to the feel of them, I suppose?"

"That's it. Used to the feel of them. I would miss them, and that
would make me wakeful."

"Well, good night."

"Good night. If I get to talkin' and tossin', or what not, you'll