he asked a little later， while secretly he wondered why theother had not yet touched his coffee.
“Ain’t no next life，” Matt answered， pausing from thesteak to take his first sip of coffee. “Nor heaven nor hell，nor nothin’. You get all that’s comin’ right here in this life.”
“An’ afterward？” Jim queried out of his morbid curiosity，for he knew that he looked upon a man that was soon todie. “An’ afterward？” he repeated.
“Did you ever see a man two weeks dead？” the otherasked.
Jim shook his head.
“Well， I have. He was like this beefsteak you an’ me iseatin’. It was once steer cavortin’ over the landscape. Butnow it’s just meat. That’s all， just meat. An’ that’s what youan’ me an’ all people come to—meat.”
Matt gulped down the whole cup of coffee， and refilledthe 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. “Maybestealin’ won’t be necessary in the life to come.”
He ceased abruptly， and stared straight before him， afrightened expression on his face.
“What’s the matter！” Matt demanded.
“Nothin’. I was just wonderin’” —Jim returned to himselfwith an effort—“about this dyin’， that was all.”
But he could not shake off the fright that had startledhim. It was as if an unseen thing of gloom had passed himby， casting upon him the intangible shadow of its presence.
He was aware of a feeling of foreboding. Somethingominous was about to happen. Calamity hovered in theair. He gazed fixedly across the table at the other man. Hecould not understand. Was it that he had blundered andpoisoned himself？ No， Matt had the nicked cup， and hehad certainly put the poison in the nicked cup.
It was all his own imagination， was his next thought. Ithad played him tricks before. Fool！ Of course it was. Ofcourse something was about to happen， but it was aboutto happen to Matt. Had not Matt drunk the whole cup ofcoffee？
Jim brightened up and finished his steak， sopping breadin the gravy when the meat was gone.
“When I was a kid—” he began， but broke off abruptly.
Again the unseen thing of gloom had fluttered， andhis being was vibrant with premonition of impendingmisfortune. He felt a disruptive influence at work in theflesh of him， and in all his muscles there was a seemingthat they were about to begin to twitch. He sat backsuddenly， and as suddenly leaned forward with his elbowson the table. A tremor ran dimly through the muscles ofhis body. It was like the first rustling of leaves before theoncoming of wind. He clenched his teeth. It came again，a spasmodic tensing of his muscles. He knew panic at therevolt within his being. His muscles no longer recognizedhis mastery over them. Again they spasmodically tensed，despite the will of him， for he had willed that they shouldnot tense. This was revolution within himself， this wasanarchy； and the terror of impotence rushed up in himas his flesh gripped and seemed to seize him in a clutch，chills running up and down his back and sweat starting onhis brow. He glanced about the room， and all the detailsof it smote him with a strange sense of familiarity. It was asthough he had just returned from a long journey. He lookedacross the table at his partner. Matt was watching him andsmiling. An expression of horror spread over Jim’s face.
“My God， Matt！” he screamed. “You ain’t doped me？”
Matt smiled and continued to watch him. In theparoxysm that followed， Jim did not become unconscious.
His muscles tensed and twitched and knotted， hurting himand crushing him in their savage grip. And in the midstof it all， it came to him that Matt was acting queerly. Hewas travelling the same road. The smile had gone from hisface， and there was on it an intent expression， as if he werelistening to some inner tale of himself and trying to divinethe message. Matt got up and walked across the room andback again， then sat down.
“You did this， Jim，” he said quietly.
“But I didn’t think you’d try to fix ME，” Jim answeredreproachfully.
“Oh， I fixed you all right，” Matt said， with teeth closetogether and shivering body. “What did you give me？”
“Strychnine.”
“Same as I gave you，” Matt volunteered. “It’s a hell of amess， ain’t it？”
“You’re lyin’， Matt，” Jim pleaded. “You ain’t doped me，have you？”
“I sure did， Jim； an’ I didn’t overdose you， neither. I cookedit in as neat as you please in your half the porterhouse.—Hold on！ Where’re you goin’？”
Jim had made a dash for the door， and was throwingback the bolts. Matt sprang in between and shoved himaway.
“Drug store，” Jim panted. “Drug store.”
“No you don’t. You’ll stay right here. There ain’t goin’