“Go on, go on,” Smoke urged.  “At what station do I climb onto the choo-choo cars, or at what water-tank do I get thrown off?”

“Ninny!  You don’t get thrown off.  You ride the egg-train straight into the Union Depot.  You make that corner in eggs.  You start in immediately, to-day.  You can buy every egg in Dawson for three dollars and sell out to Wild Water at almost any advance.  And then, afterward, we’ll let the inside history come out.  The laugh will be on Wild Water.  His turbulence will be some subdued.  You and I share the glory of it.  You make a pile of money.  And Dawson wakes up with a grand ha! ha!  Of course—­if—­if you think the speculation too risky, I’ll put up the dust for the corner.”

This last was too much for Smoke.  Being only a mere mortal Western man, with queer obsessions about money and women, he declined with scorn the proffer of her dust.

“Hey!  Shorty!” Smoke called across the main street to his partner, who was trudging along in his swift, slack-jointed way, a naked bottle with frozen contents conspicuously tucked under his arm.  Smoke crossed over.

“Where have you been all morning?  Been looking for you everywhere.”

“Up to Doc’s,” Shorty answered, holding out the bottle.  “Something’s wrong with Sally.  I seen last night, at feedin’-time, the hair on her tail an’ flanks was fallin’ out.  The Doc says—­”

“Never mind that,” Smoke broke in impatiently.  “What I want—­”

“What’s eatin’ you?” Shorty demanded in indignant astonishment.  “An’ Sally gettin’ naked bald in this crimpy weather!  I tell you that dog’s sick.  Doc says—­”

“Let Sally wait.  Listen to me—­”

“I tell you she can’t wait.  It’s cruelty to animals.  She’ll be frost-bit.  What are you in such a fever about anyway?  Has that Monte Cristo strike proved up?”

“I don’t know, Shorty.  But I want you to do me a favor.”

“Sure,” Shorty said gallantly, immediately appeased and acquiescent.  “What is it?  Let her rip.  Me for you.”

“I want you to buy eggs for me—­”

“Sure, an’ Floridy water an’ talcum powder, if you say the word.  An’ poor Sally sheddin’ something scand’lous!  Look here, Smoke, if you want to go in for high livin’ you go an’ buy your own eggs.  Beans an’ bacon’s good enough for me.”

“I am going to buy, but I want you to help me to buy.  Now, shut up, Shorty.  I’ve got the floor.  You go right straight to Slavovitch’s.  Pay as high as three dollars, but buy all he’s got.”

“Three dollars!” Shorty groaned.  “An’ I heard tell only yesterday that he’s got all of seven hundred in stock!  Twenty-one hundred dollars for hen-fruit!  Say, Smoke, I tell you what.  You run right up and see the Doc.  He’ll tend to your case.  An’ he’ll only charge you an ounce for the first prescription.  So-long, I gotta to be pullin’ my freight.”