The older man's eyes twinkled. "I don't think he's any nearer heaven than he was forty years ago,--and he's been dead just about that long. He wasn't what you'd call a far-seeing man,--and you've got to look a long ways ahead if you want to see heaven. Your grandma's in heaven all right,--and I'll bet she was the most surprised mortal that ever got inside the pearly gates if she found him there ahead of her. Like as not she would have backed out, thinking she'd got into the wrong place by mistake. And if he IS up there, I bet he's making the place an everlastin' hell for her. Yep, your grandpa was about as mean as they make 'em. As you say, he didn't know anything about cigarettes, but he made up for it by runnin' after women and fast horses,--or maybe it was hosses and, fast women,--and cheatin' the eye teeth out of everybody he had any dealings with." "I don't understand how he happened to die young, If all these things were true about him," said the other, lighting a fresh cigarette and drawing in a deep, full breath of the pungent smoke. The old man waited a few seconds for the smoke to be expelled, and then, as it came out in a far-reaching volume, carrying far on the still air, his face betrayed not only relief but wonder. "You don't actually swaller it, do you?" he inquired. "Certainly not. I inhale, that's all. Any one can do it." "I'd choke to death," said the old man, shifting his cigar hastily from one side of his mouth to the other, and taking a fresh grip on it with his teeth,--as if fearing the consequences of a momentary lapse of control. "You've been chewing that cigar for nearly two hours," observed the young man. "I call that a filthy habit." "I guess you're right," agreed the other, amiably. "The best you can say for it is that it's a man's job, and not a woman's," he added, with all the scorn that the cigar smoker has for the man who affects nothing but cigarettes. "You can't make me sore by talking like that," said his companion, stretching himself lazily. "Approximately ten million men smoked cigarettes over in France for four years and more, and I submit that they had what you might call a man's job on their hands." "How many of them things do you smoke in a day?" "It depends entirely on how early I get up in the morning,--and how late I stay up at night. Good Lord, it's getting hotter every minute. For two cents, I'd strip and jump in there for a game of hide and seek with the fish. By the way, I don't suppose there are any mermaids in these parts, are there?" "You stay out of that water," commanded the old man. "You ain't strong enough yet to be takin' any such chances. You're here to get well, and you got to be mighty all-fired careful. The bed of that river is full of cold springs,--and it's pretty deep along this stretch. Weak as you are,--and as hot as you are,--you'd get cramps in less'n a minute." "I happen to be a good swimmer."