"Ain't he disgustin'!" interrupted Fresno.
"What does rice mean, anyhow?" asked the bewildered Sage-brush.
"It means something about wishin' 'em good luck, health, wealth, an' prosperity, an' all that sort of thing—it's a sign an' symbol of joy," rattled off Slim.
"Well, now, ain't there more joy in corn than in rice?" triumphantly asked Sage-brush.
Slim jerked open the top of the bag while Sage-brush stood by helplessly. "Well, the darned idiot!" he muttered, as he peered into it. "If he ain't gone and got it on the ear," he continued, as he pulled a big ear out.
"All the better," chuckled Sage-brush. "We'll chuck 'em joy in bunches."
"Don't you know that if you hit the bride with a club like this—you'll put her plumb out?" cried Slim.
Sage-brush was not cast down, however. Always resourceful, he suggested: "We'll shell some for the bride, but we'll hand Jack his in bunches."
The idea appealing to the punchers, each grabbed an ear of corn. Some brandished the ears like clubs; others aimed them like revolvers.
"I'll keep this one," said Slim, picking out an unusually large ear. "It's a .44. I'll get one of the Greasers to shell some for the bride."