Jim shook his head.
“Well, I have. He was like this beefsteak you an' me is eatin'. It was once steer cavortin' over the landscape. But now it's just meat. That's all, just meat. An' that's what you an' me an' all people come to—meat.”
Matt gulped down the whole cup of coffee, and refilled the cup.
“Are you scared to die?” he asked.
Jim shook his head. “What's the use? I don't die anyway. I pass on an' live again—”
“To go stealin', an' lyin' an' snivellin' through another life, an' go on that way forever an' ever an' ever?” Matt sneered.
“Maybe I'll improve,” Jim suggested hopefully. “Maybe stealin' won't be necessary in the life to come.”
He ceased abruptly, and stared straight before him, a frightened expression on his face.
“What's the matter!” Matt demanded.
“Nothin'. I was just wonderin'”—Jim returned to himself with an effort—“about this dyin', that was all.”