r 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."

He started off, but Smoke caught his partner by the shoulder, arresting
his progress and whirling him around.

"Smoke, I'd sure do anything for you," Shorty protested earnestly. "If
you had a cold in the head an' was layin' with both arms broke, I'd set
by your bedside, day an' night, an' wipe your nose for you. But I'll
be everlastin'ly damned if I'll squander twenty-one hundred good iron
dollars on hen-fruit for you or any other two-legged man."

"They're not your dollars, but mine, Shorty. It's a deal I have on. What
I'm after is to corner every blessed egg in Dawson, in the Klondike, on
the Yukon. You've got to help me out. I haven't the time to tell you of
the inwardness of the deal. I will afterward, and let you go half on
it if you want to. But the thing right now is to get the eggs. Now you
hustle up to Slavovitch's and buy all he's got."

"But what'll I tell 'm? He'll sure know I ain't goin' to eat 'em."

"Tell him nothing. Money talks. He sells them cooked for two dollars.
Offer him up to three for them uncooked. If he gets curious, tell him
you're starting a chicken ranch. What I want is the eggs. And then keep
on; nose out every egg in Dawson and buy it. Understand? Buy it! That
little joint across the street from Slavovitch's has a few. Buy them.
I'm going over to Klondike City. There's an old man there, with a bad
leg, who's broke and who has six dozen. He's held them all winter for
the rise, intending to get enough out of them to pay his passage back
to Seattle. I'll see he gets his passage, and I'll get the eggs. Now
hustle. And they say that little woman down beyond the sawmill wh