cellar
next winter--if you're livin'," he remarked as the potatoes rattled when
Wallie dropped them in the kettle.

"Do you suppose I could grow potatoes? Is it too dry?"

"This is a great country for potatoes. There's somethin' in the soil
that gits in the potatoes' eyes and makes 'em water so they irrigate
themselves. Shore! you can grow potatoes."

"I want to make a good many improvements here before next winter,"
announced Wallie, hopefully. "I wish you could come over for awhile and
help me."

"That mightn't be a bad idea," said Pinkey, thoughtfully. "Sence the
country went dry I don't much care whether I draw wages or not--they's
nothin' to spend money for, so what's the use of workin'? If I was over
here I might add a few feet to my rope and git me a good little start
off Canby."

"Do you see much of him?" Wallie asked, indifferently.

"Too much," said Pinkey, shortly.

Wallie dropped the pan he was turning in the oven.

"They're browning beautifully," he exclaimed hastily.

"You said that before. Ain't it gittin' time to work on 'em?"

"Remove your feet and I'll set the table."

"Can't you spread a paper for a tablecloth? I always git splinters in my
elbows when I eat off rough lumber."

Wallie laughed good-humouredly as he obliged him.

"That's shore a great smell comin' from the oven! Let's eat, feller."

"You certainly are hungry, Pinkey. If I may judge by appearances, you
are not going to be disappointed. You sit down while I put things on the
table."

Pinkey needed no second invitation.

"I like spuds cooked with the clothes on," he observed as he skinned a
potato.

"I trust everything is going to be to your liking," Wallie declared,
cordially, as he drew the prairie-dogs from the oven and laid them on an
agate-ware platter.

Busy with his potato, Pinkey did not see them until they were before
him. Then he stopped and stared hard as they lay on their backs grinning
up at him with the "forcemeat" oozing through the stitching.

"_What are they?_" His emphasis was not flattering.

"I shan't tell you yet," declared Wallie.

Pinkey continued to eye them suspiciously.

"They kinda remind me of a mummy I seen in a side-show; then, again,
they look like incubator childern--roasted. Them teeth are what git me.
I can't quite place 'em. 'Tain't wood-pussy or nothin', Wallie? 'Tain't
no notorious animal like pole-kitty?"

Wallie looked offended.

"I intend to eat some myself," he replie