"Why?" said Shorty.
"Because it's the right kind of a job for you."
"I can make more—" began Shorty, and stopped.
"There is a time coming," said the Virginian, "when I'll want somebody that knows how to get the friendship of hawsses. I'll want him to handle some special hawsses the Judge has plans about. Judge Henry would pay fifty a month for that."
"I can make more," said Shorty, this time with stubbornness.
"Well, yes. Sometimes a man can—when he's not worth it, I mean. But it don't generally last."
Shorty was silent.
"I used to make more myself," said the Virginian.
"You're making a lot more now," said Shorty.
"Oh, yes. But I mean when I was fooling around the earth, jumping from job to job, and helling all over town between whiles. I was not worth fifty a month then, nor twenty-five. But there was nights I made a heap more at cyards."
Shorty's eyes grew large.
"And then, bang! it was gone with treatin' the men and the girls."
"I don't always—" said Shorty, and stopped again.
The Virginian knew that he was thinking about the money he sent East. "After a while," he continued, "I noticed a right strange fact. The money I made easy that I wasn't worth, it went like it came. I strained myself none gettin' or spendin' it. But the money I made hard that I
