Th’ perfessor removes his hard hat and squints at Magpie.
“The—er—person who brought us up here informed me that you were perfectly competent. Was we misinformed?”
“Misinformed? No, ol’-timer, you was lied to. Sabe?”
“Th’ fact of th’ matter is this,” states th’ doc. “Professor Phinney wants to engage the services of you and Mister Harper. He is willing to pay you a reasonable amount for your services, and is also able to offer a substantial bonus in case you can help him prove or disprove his contention. Am I right, Professor?”
“Yeaus,” drawls th’ ol’ coot.
He’s uh funny ol’ rooster. He allus sez “Yeaus” instead uh “Uh-huh.” I don’t reckon he ever figgered that th’ Lord only give him one set uh vocal cords, or else he didn’t care if he did wear ’em out early in life. Every danged word he orates sounds like th’ letters had been carved out uh granite, and he was afraid to let ’em all fall to oncet fer fear some of ’em might git scratched or busted.
“Yuh might explain th’ bonus part,” sez Magpie.
“You see,” sez th’ perfessor, “for my own personal satisfaction I would observe the home life of the rattlesnake and prairie-dog, but the most important is the test of the maternal instinct in the grizzly bear.
“I shall expect you to furnish me with the opportunity to carry out this experiment to a satisfactory conclusion, and in case you can do so to my satisfaction, I am willing to remunerate you to the extent of two hundred dollars each. Of course I am prepared to pay you each five dollars per day. Do you feel competent to assist me?”
Magpie sticks his thumbs into his belt, shifts his weight on to one leg, and squints at them burros.