"Ah! But I do though. I gave him a hand with the silly beggars and bally good fun it was, too. We passed them through a long trough and ducked their heads under as fast as they came along. But it was work, no end, mixing the solution. There was nothing funny about that part of it."
"See here, Whit, are you really in earnest? Do you think you can make the stuff and show us how to use it?"
"Absolutely certain, dear boy. Cattle are n't sheep, but I 'll be bound it 'll do the trick."
"How fast can you run 'em though?"
Whitby reflected. "We could do a thousand a day, perhaps more. It depends on how many you do at once, you know." And Whitby went into a detailed description to which Buck gave close attention. At the end he shook his head. "Reckon we 'll have to stick to th' old way," he adjudged, regretfully. "There ain't that quantity of lime and sulphur in all Montana."
"Ah, yes; your point is good," drawled Whitby, smiling. "But your partner lives in Chicago where there is any quantity of it. If we wired him to-morrow to get the stuff and ship it at once he would do it, don't you know."
"Take it too long to get here," replied Buck, gloomily.
"Don't you think the railroad will see that such an important consignment gets off and comes through quickly, especially if the consignor is willing to pay the damage? I 'll bet you a good cigar it will be here within a week after we wire. Let me send the wire and I 'll bet you a box. I 'm bally good at wires. I used to get money out of the Governor by wire when I could get it no other way."
"Let her go," said Buck. "If it's all you say we 'll show them coyotes we know a few tricks ourselves."
"Yes, I fancy we shall," replied Whitby. "But isn't this a rummy game? They act like savages, you know. It is all very refreshing to a sated mind—and their justice is so deuced direct, right or wrong. Fancy Blackstone in the discard, as you Americans say, and a Colt's revolver sovereign lord of the realm!"