“Set down an' have a bite, Wild Water,” Shorty invited. “Smoke, fry him some eggs. I'll bet he ain't scoffed an egg in a coon's age.” Smoke broke three more eggs into the hot pan, and in several minutes placed them before his guest, who looked at them with so strange and strained an expression that Shorty confessed afterward his fear that Wild Water would slip them into his pocket and carry them away. “Say, them swells down in the States ain't got nothin' over us in the matter of eats,” Shorty gloated. “Here's you an' me an' Smoke gettin' outside ninety dollars' worth of eggs an' not battin' an eye.” Wild Water stared at the rapidly disappearing eggs and seemed petrified. “Pitch in an' eat,” Smoke encouraged. “They--they ain't worth no ten dollars,” Wild Water said slowly. Shorty accepted the challenge. “A thing's worth what you can get for it, ain't it?” he demanded. “Yes, but--” “But nothin'. I'm tellin' you what we can get for 'em. Ten a throw, just like that. We're the egg trust, Smoke an' me, an' don't you forget it. When we say ten a throw, ten a throw goes.” He mopped his plate with a biscuit. “I could almost eat a couple more,” he sighed, then helped himself to the beans. “You can't eat eggs like that,” Wild Water objected. “It--it ain't right.” “We just dote on eggs, Smoke an' me,” was Shorty's excuse. Wild Water finished his own plate in a half-hearted way and gazed dubiously at the two comrades. “Say, you fellows can do me a great favor,” he began tentatively. “Sell me, or lend me, or give me, about a dozen of them eggs.” “Sure,” Smoke answered. “I know what a yearning for eggs is myself. But we're not so poor that we have to sell our hospitality. They'll cost you nothing--” Here a sharp kick under the table admonished him that Shorty was getting nervous. “A dozen, did you say, Wild Water?” Wild Water nodded. “Go ahead, Shorty,” Smoke went on. “Cook them up for him. I can sympathize. I've seen the time myself when I could eat a dozen, straight off the bat.” But Wild Water laid a restraining hand on the eager Shorty as he explained. “I don't mean cooked. I want them with the shells on.” “So that you can carry 'em away?” “That's the idea.” “But that ain't hospitality,” Shorty objected. “It's--it's tradin'.” Smoke nodded concurrence. “That's different, Wild Water. I thought you just wanted to eat them. You see, we went into this for a speculation.” The dangerous blue of Wild Water's eyes began to grow more dangerous. “I'll pay you for them,” he said sharply. “How much?” “Oh, not a dozen,” Smoke replied. “We couldn't sell a dozen. We're not retailers; we're speculators. We can't break our own market. We've got a hard and fast corner, and when we sell out it's the whole corner or nothing.” “How many have you got, and how much do you want for them?” “How many have we, Shorty?” Smoke inquired.