I left the ladies, and sought the bunk house. I had heard the cheers, but I was curious also to see the men, and how they were taking it. There was but little for the eye. There was much noise in the room. They were getting ready to come to church,--brushing their hair, shaving, and making themselves clean, amid talk occasionally profane and continuously diverting. “Well, I’m a Christian, anyway,” one declared. “I’m a Mormon, I guess,” said another. “I belong to the Knights of Pythias,” said a third. “I’m a Mohammedist,” said a fourth; “I hope I ain’t goin’ to hear nothin’ to shock me.” And they went on with their joking. But Trampas was out of the joking. He lay on his bed reading a newspaper, and took no pains to look pleasant. My eyes were considering him when the blithe Scipio came in. “Don’t look so bashful,” said he. “There’s only us girls here.” He had been helping the Virginian move his belongings from the bunk house over to the foreman’s cabin. He himself was to occupy the Virginian’s old bed here. “And I hope sleepin’ in it will bring me some of his luck,” said Scipio. “Yu’d ought to’ve seen us when he told us in his quiet way. Well,” Scipio sighed a little, “it must feel good to have your friends glad about you.” “Especially Trampas,” said I. “The Judge knows about that,” I added. “Knows, does he? What’s he say?” Scipio drew me quickly out of the bunk house. “Says it’s no business of his.” “Said nothing but that?” Scipio’s curiosity seemed strangely intense. “Made no suggestion? Not a thing?” “Not a thing. Said he didn’t want to know and didn’t care.” “How did he happen to hear about it?” snapped Scipio. “You told him!” he immediately guessed. “He never would.” And Scipio jerked his thumb at the Virginian, who appeared for a moment in the lighted window of the new quarters he was arranging. “He never would tell,” Scipio repeated. “And so the Judge never made a suggestion to him,” he muttered, nodding in the darkness. “So it’s just his own notion. Just like him, too, come to think of it. Only I didn’t expect--well, I guess he could surprise me any day he tried.” “You’re surprising me now,” I said. “What’s it all about?” “Oh, him and Trampas.” “What? Nothing surely happened yet?” I was as curious as Scipio had been. “No, not yet. But there will.” “Great Heavens, man! when?” “Just as soon as Trampas makes the first move,” Scipio replied easily. I became dignified. Scipio had evidently been told things by the Virginian. “Yes, I up and asked him plumb out,” Scipio answered. “I was liftin’ his trunk in at the door, and I couldn’t stand it no longer, and I asked him plumb out. ‘Yu’ve sure got Trampas where yu’ want him.’ That’s what I said. And he up and answered and told me. So I know.” At this point Scipio stopped; I was not to know. “I had no idea,” I said, “that your system held so much meanness.” “Oh, it ain’t meanness!” And he laughed ecstatically. “What do you call it, then?”