“Now, Gloomy Gus”—a name he bestowed on Case during his gloomy spells—grinned Alex. “Isn’t it better a lot to think you are going to get rich when you start even if you do come back poor? It makes fun in the going anyway. Ain’t I right, Clay?”
“Don’t count your chickens before they are hatched,” quoted Clay with a smile.
“If we did not, there would be no chicken raisers,” Alex retorted with spirit. “They always expect a chicken for every egg until the shells begin to crack.”
“I hate to interrupt so much philosophy,” said Ike with a smile, “but I’m just itching to talk a little myself.”
“Take the floor,” smiled Clay, and his two companions lapsed into silence.
“What I want to say is just this,” began Ike in a brisk, business-like way. “I want to go up the Yukon with you fellows.”
“Hurray,” shouted Alex, “four is lots better than three.”
“Sure, come along,” said Case, cheerfully.
Only Clay did not join in the hearty replies and his two companions eyed him in wonder.
“It is going to be a very expensive trip,” Clay said at last.