"Jist a little tradin', that's all."
"But I never heard of people trading in rats, daddy."
"Ye didn't, eh? Well, this is jist an exchange of country rats fer town rats, that's all. But, there, I must be off. Keep a sharp eye on them kids when they wake, an' don't let 'em raise ructions. G'long, Jerry."
Abner made a record trip to town that morning. Having hitched his horse to the usual post, and with the box under his arm, he sauntered into the waiting-room, peered through the ticket-office window and saw the agent reading The Live Wire.
"Say, Sam," he accosted, "are ye busy?"
"Not especially," was the reply. "What can I do for you, Mr. Andrews?"
"When does the express team go out, Sam?"
"Not until late this afternoon. Got something to send?"
"Sure. Jist see how much this'll cost, will ye?" and Abner motioned to the box. "It's fer Lawyer Rackshaw."
"Why not drop it around there yourself, Mr. Andrews? It might not be delivered until late, and, besides, you will save the express charge."