"Sure. Figgered that'd put him down to stay."
Snedeker said dryly, "Well, don't be shootin' at my ear no matter if I'm walkin' or gallopin'. You'll be a right handy man with a rifle after you've growed a mite."
"You should have hunted something we could eat," Joe said.
"Don't be preachin' thataway," Snedeker protested. "Meat's to be had for the takin', but wolf pelts ain't. Pelt that critter, cure the pelt, an' some Oregon-bound emmy-grant will pay fancy for it."
"Do they buy such things?"
"They spend money for what takes their eye. An' what takes their eye is ever'thing. You could sell 'em a full-sized steamboat if you had one to sell. They couldn't haul it along, an' even if they could they wouldn't know what to do with it in Oregon. But they'd buy it. Young'un, you mind that short rifle in my rack?"
"Yes."
"Want to swap your wolf pelt for it?"
"Gee!" Tad gasped.
"Pelt this critter out an' the rifle's your'n, long with the horn an' bullet mold. Bullets you got to mold yourself."