eindeer? Copper-mine or brick-yard? That's one guess. Bear-skins, or
any kind of skins? Lottery tickets? A potato-ranch?"

"Getting near it," Smoke encouraged. "And better than that."

"Two potato-ranches? A cheese-factory? A moss-farm?"

"That's not so bad, Shorty. It's not a thousand miles away."

"A quarry?"

"That's as near as the moss-farm and the potato-ranch."

"Hold on. Let me think. I got one guess comin'." Ten silent minutes
passed. "Say, Smoke, I ain't goin' to use that last guess. When this
thing you're buyin' sounds like a potato-ranch, a moss-farm, and a
stone-quarry, I quit. An' I don't go in on the deal till I see it an'
size it up. What is it?"

"Well, you'll see the cards on the table soon enough. Kindly cast your
eyes up there. Do you see the smoke from that cabin? That's where Dwight
Sanderson lives. He's holding down a town-site location."

"What else is he holdin' down?"

"That's all," Smoke laughed. "Except rheumatism. I hear he's been
suffering from it."

"Say!" Shorty's hand flashed out and with an abrupt shoulder grip
brought his comrade to a halt. "You ain't telling me you're buyin' a
town-site at this fallin'-off place?"

"That's your tenth guess, and you win. Come on."

"But wait a moment," Shorty pleaded. "Look at it--nothin' but bluffs an'
slides, all up-and-down. Where could the town stand?"

"Search me."

"Then you ain't buyin' it for a town?"

"But Dwight Sanderson's selling it for a town," Smoke baffled. "Come on.
We've got to climb this slide."

The slide was steep, and a narrow trail zigzagged up it on a formidable
Jacob's ladder. Shorty moaned and groaned over the sharp corners and the
steep pitches.

"Think of a town-site here. They ain't a flat space big enough for a
postage-stamp. An' it's the wrong side of the river. All the freightin'
goes the other way. Look at Dawson there. Room to spread for forty
thousand more people. Say, Smoke. You're a meat-eater. I know that. An'
I know you ain't buyin' it for a town. Then what in Heaven's name are
you buyin' it for?"

"To sell, of course."

"But other folks ain't as crazy as old man Sanderson an' you."

"Maybe not in the same way, Shorty. Now I'm going to take this
town-site, break it up in parcels, and sell it to a lot of sane people
who live over in Dawson."

"Huh! All Dawson's still laughing at you an' me an' them eggs. You want
to make 'em laugh some more, hey?"

"I certainly do."

"But it's too dange