"Oh, Toady," interrupted Billiard again, "here's a plant just like those mamma always has in her garden. I didn't s'pose things like that would grow here on the desert."
"That's a castor bean."
"Like they make castor oil of?"
"Sure! At least, I guess so. Glory told me it's the only thing green on the desert that the burros won't eat. Folks could have flowers here the same as back home if water didn't cost so much, and the burros didn't eat the plants as fast as they came up."
"It's the first castor bean I've seen here."
"Why, there's a whole bunch down by the drug-store! We've passed them dozens of times. Where are your eyes?"
Billiard's face flushed wrathfully. Toady's recent victory had made him suddenly very important and domineering, but his fists were certainly hard enough to deal a telling blow; so the older boy, still caressing his swollen, aching nose, thought it wise to overlook such sarcastic flings, and, pretending to be deeply interested in the queer-leaved plant, he casually asked, "Do they all have such funny burrs on them?"
"When they're big enough. That's where the castor beans themselves grow."
Billiard gingerly picked one of the strange balls and minutely examined the hooked prickles of the reddish covering. Then with his jack-knife he proceeded to investigate the inside. "Do you s'pose they really make castor oil out of these? I don't see how they can."
"Glory says they do."