They began on the miscellaneous assortment of the original corner, all three men counting. When two hundred had been reached, Wild Water suddenly cracked an egg on the edge of the table and opened it deftly with his thumbs.
“Hey! Hold on!” Shorty objected.
“It's my egg, ain't it?” Wild Water snarled. “I'm paying ten dollars for it, ain't I? But I ain't buying no pig in a poke. When I cough up ten bucks an egg I want to know what I'm gettin'.”
“If you don't like it, I'll eat it,” Shorty volunteered maliciously.
Wild Water looked and smelled and shook his head. “No, you don't, Shorty. That's a good egg. Gimme a pail. I'm goin' to eat it myself for supper.”
Thrice again Wild Water cracked good eggs experimentally and put them in the pail beside him.
“Two more than you figgered, Shorty,” he said at the end of the count. “Nine hundred an' sixty-four, not sixty-two.”
“My mistake,” Shorty acknowledged handsomely. “We'll throw 'em in for good measure.”
“Guess you can afford to,” Wild Water accepted grimly. “Pass the batch. Nine thousan' six hundred an' twenty dollars. I'll pay for it now. Write a receipt, Smoke.”
“Why not count the rest,” Smoke suggested, “and pay all at once?”