“Why?” says I.
“To git that p-pasture.”
“What we want with any pastures? We hain’t keepin’ no hogs.”
“Plunk,” says Mark, “sometimes you s’prise me. Honest you do. There’s t-times when I figger you hain’t got enough brains to wad a gun. Listen, if we git s-somethin’ Wiggamore’s got to have, what then?”
“I dunno,” says I.
“Why, he’s got to have it, hain’t he? And if he’s got to have it, he’s got to p-p-pay for it whatever we ask. Because he’s got to have it. If we git that meadow we’re in a position to t-trade with him, and make a little money into the b-bargain.”
“I guess so,” says I.
“Well,” says he, “our job is to f-f-find George, and f-find him quick.”
“How?” says Binney.
“Not by t-t-talkin’ about it,” says Mark, “but by l-lookin’. If I know George Piggins he hain’t far off. He hain’t the kind of a coot to go many m-miles from home.”