"Ay!"
"How many do you send per week, on an average?"
"Ask Margaret,—she'll tell you."
I turned and addressed Mrs. Clark, who looked over at her husband sadly.
"When the season is good, maybe fifty dozen a week; sometimes more, sometimes not so many, Mr. Bremner. Of course, in the winter, there's a falling off."
"I understand, Mrs. Clark.
"I have a big demand from the Camps for eggs," I explained. "What I get, I have to order from Vancouver. Now, it costs you money to send your eggs to the market there, and it costs me money to bring mine from the market. Why cannot we create a home exchange? I could afford to pay you at least five cents a dozen more than you are getting from the city dealers, save you and myself the freight charges, and still I could be money ahead and I would always be sure of having absolutely fresh stock. Besides, I would pay cash for what I got."
Andrew Clark nodded his head. "A capital plan, my boy,—a capital plan. Man," he exclaimed testily, "Joe, wi' all his smartness, would never have thought o' that in a thousand years."
I laughed. "Why!—there is no thinking to it, Andrew. It is simply the A.B.C. of arithmetic.
"What do you say to the arrangement then?" I asked.