"My own self, I'm a bachelor man, too--been batching for twenty years, one place and another--but by God! Sim, this here is the human limit.

Look at that bed." He kicked a foot toward a heap of dirty fabrics which lay upon the floor, a bed which might once have been devised for a man, but long since had fallen below that rank.

It had a breadth of dirty canvas thrown across it, from under which the occupant had crawled out.
Beneath might be seen the edges of two or three worn and dirty cotton quilts and a pair of blankets of like dinginess.

Below this lay a worn elk hide, and under all a lower-breadth of the over-lapping canvas.

It was such a bed as primarily a cow-puncher might have had, but fallen into such condition that no cow camp would have tolerated it.
Sim Gage looked at the heap of bedding for a time gravely and carefully, as though trying to find some reason for his friend's dissatisfaction.