For a time there was no sound save the hissing of milk in the pails.
Eris carried her pail to the steelyards, weighed it, took the pencil dangling by its string and filled in her memoranda opposite the name of Guelder-Rose. Then she transferred her attentions to Apple-bloom’s Daughter.
“Made a lotta money, Eris?” inquired Elmer abruptly.
“Some.”
“Waal, I guess you spent it, too.”
“No.”
“Hey? Got it yet?”
“Most of it, Dad.”
“Waal, I’ll be jiggered.... What you aimin’ to do with it, Eris?”
“Save it.”