"That's nothin'", said Overland genially. "It ain't the 'thirty-five' that makes me feel sore—it's the 'only.' You said it all then. But believe me, pardner, the thirty-five have been all red chips."
"Well, you have lived," sighed Winthrop.
"And come clost to forgettin' to, once or twice. Anyhow,—speakin' of heaven,—I'd jest as soon take my chances with this here mug of mine, what shows I earned all I got, as with one of them there dead-fish faces I seen on some guys that never done nothin' better or worse than get up for breakfast."
Winthrop smiled. "Yes. And you believe in a heaven, then?"
"From mornin' till night. And then more than ever. Not your kind of a heaven, or mebby any other guy's. But as sure as you're goin' to crease them new boots by settin' too clost to the fire, there's somethin' up there windin' up the works regular and seein' that she ticks right, and once in a while chuckin' out old wheels and puttin' in new ones. Jest take a look at them stars! Do you reckon they're runnin' right on time and not jumpin' the track and dodgin' each other that slick—jest because they was throwed out of a star-factory promiscus like a shovel of gravel? No, sir! Each one is doin' its stunt because the other one is—same as folks. Sure, there's somethin' runnin the big works; but whether me or you is goin' to get a look-in,—goin' to be let in on it,—why, that's different."
Winthrop drew back from the fire and crossed his legs. He leaned forward, gazing at the flames. From the viewless distance came the howl of coyotes.
"They're tryin' to figure it out—same as us," said Overland, poking a half-burned root into the fire. "And they're gettin' about as far along at it, too. Like most folks does in a crowd—jest howlin' all together. Mebby it sounds good to 'em. I don' know."
"I'm somewhat of a scoffer, I think," said Winthrop presently.
"Most lungers is," was Overland's cheerful comment. "They're sore on their luck. They ain't really sore at the big works. They only think so. I've knowed lots of 'em that way."
"To-night,—here in this cañon,—with the stars and the desert so near, you almost persuade me that there is something."