Smoke nodded, and continued to nod to each question.

“He’s got one cheek half gone where a bald-face grizzly swatted him.  Am I right?  He’s a dog-trader—­right, eh?  His name is Scar-Face Jim.  That’s so, ain’t it?  D’ye get my drift?”

“You mean we’ve been bidding—?”

“Against each other.  Sure thing.  That squaw’s his wife, an’ they keep house on the hill back of the hospital.  I could ‘a’ got them eggs for two a throw if you hadn’t butted in.”

“And so could I,” Smoke laughed, “if you’d kept out, blame you!  But it doesn’t amount to anything.  We know that we’ve got the corner.  That’s the big thing.”

Shorty spent the next hour wrestling with a stub of a pencil on the margin of a three-year-old newspaper, and the more interminable and hieroglyphic grew his figures the more cheerful he became.

“There she stands,” he said at last.  “Pretty?  I guess yes.  Lemme give you the totals.  You an’ me has right now in our possession exactly nine hundred an’ seventy-three eggs.  They cost us exactly two thousand, seven hundred an’ sixty dollars, reckonin’ dust at sixteen an ounce an’ not countin’ time.  An’ now listen to me.  If we stick up Wild Water for ten dollars a egg we stand to win, clean net an’ all to the good, just exactly six thousand nine hundred and seventy dollars.  Now that’s a book-makin’ what is, if anybody should ride up on a dog-sled an’ ask you.  An’ I’m in half on it!  Put her there, Smoke.  I’m that thankful I’m sure droolin’ gratitude.  Book-makin’!  Say, I’d sooner run with the chicks than the ponies any day.”

At eleven that night Smoke was routed from sound sleep by Shorty, whose fur parka exhaled an atmosphere of keen frost and whose hand was extremely cold in its contact with Smoke’s cheek.

“What is it now?” Smoke grumbled.  “Rest of Sally’s hair fallen out?”

“Nope.  But I just had to tell you the good news.  I seen Slavovitch.  Or Slavovitch seen me, I guess, because he started the seance.  He says to me:  ’Shorty, I want to speak to you about them eggs.  I’ve kept it quiet.  Nobody knows I sold ’em to you.  But if you’re speculatin’, I can put you wise to a good thing.’  An’ he did, too, Smoke.  Now what’d you guess that good thing is?”

“Go on.  Name it.”

“Well, maybe it sounds incredible, but that good thing was Wild Water Charley.  He’s lookin’ to buy eggs.  He goes around to Slavovitch an’ offers him five dollars an egg, an’ before he quits he’s offerin’ eight.  An’ Slavovitch ain’t got no eggs.  Last thing Wild Water says to Slavovitch is that he’ll beat the head offen him if he ever finds out Slavovitch has eggs cached away somewheres.  Slavovitch had to tell ’m he’d sold the eggs, but that the buyer was secret.

“Slavovitch says to let him say the word to Wild Water who’s got the eggs.  ‘Shorty,’ he says to me, ‘Wild Water’ll come a-runnin’.  You can hold him up for eight dollars.’  ’Eight dollars, your grandmother,’ I says.  ‘He’ll fall for ten before I’m done with him.’  Anyway, I told Slavovitch I’d think it over and let him know in the mornin’.  Of course we’ll let ’m pass the word on to Wild Water.  Am I right?”