Irish told his name, and presently went inside. “I'm pulling outa town, Fred,” he explained, “and I don't know when I'll be in again. So I want you to take an order for some posts and bob wire and steeples. I—”
“Why didn't you come to the store?” Fred very naturally demanded, peevish at being wakened at three o'clock in the morning. “I saw you in town when I closed up.”
“I was busy. Crawl back into bed and cover up, while I give you the order. I'll want a receipt for the money, too—I'm paying in advance, so you won't have any excuse for holding up the order. Got any thing to write on?”
Fred found part of an order pad and a pencil, and crept shivering into his bed. The offer to pay in advance had silenced his grumbling, as Irish expected it would. So Irish gave the order—thirteen hundred cedar posts, I remember—I don't know just how much wire, but all he would need.
“Holy Macintosh! Is this for YOU?” Fred wanted to know as he wrote it down.
“Some of it. We're fencing our claims. If I don't come after the stuff myself, let any of the boys have it that shows up. And get it here as quick as you can—what you ain't got on hand—”
Fred was scratching his jaw meditatively with the pencil, and staring at the order. “I can just about fill that order outa stock on hand,” he told Irish. “When all this land rush started I laid in a big supply of posts and wire. First thing they'd want, after they got their shacks up. How you making it, out there?”
“Fine,” said Irish cheerfully, feeling his broken knuckles. “How much is all that going to cost? You oughta make us a rate on it, seeing it's a cash sale, and big.”
“I will.” Fred tore out a sheet and did some mysterious figuring, afterwards crumpling the paper into a little wad and hipping it behind the bed. “This has got to be on the quiet, Irish. I can't sell wire and posts to those eastern marks at this rate, you know. This is just for you boys—and the profit for us is trimmed right down to a whisper.” He named the sum total with the air of one who confers a great favor.
Irish grinned and reached into his pocket. “You musta knocked your profit down to fifty percent.,” he fleered. “But it's a go with me.” He peeled off the whole roll, just about. He had two twenties left in his hand when he stopped. He was very methodical that night. He took a receipt for the money before he left and he looked at it with glistening eyes before he folded it with the money. “Don't sell any posts and wire till our order's filled, Fred,” he warned. “We'll begin hauling right away, and we'll want it all.”