want you to work. Any other news?"

"You bet they's other news!" roared Big Medicine, goggling across the
table at Luck. "I rustled me a job, by cripes! Soon as this rain's
over, I'm goin' to cash in my face fer two dollars a day with the
Sunset. Feller over there wants me bad fer atmosphere in a pitcher he's
goin' to make of the Figy Islands. Feller claims he can clothe me in a
nigger wig and a handful of grass and get more atmosphere, by cripes,
to the square inch--"

Rosemary gasped and bolted for the kitchen. When she came back, red-faced
and still gurgling spasmodically, Pink was relating his experiences with
another company. He and the Native Son and Weary, it transpired, were
duly enrolled upon the extra list and were reasonably sure of a day's
work now and then. Rosemary had paid her Japanese maid and let her go,
and Andy was going to help her with the housework until the industrial
problem was solved. She listened for a minute and then made a suggestion
of her own.

"We're all in the same boat," she said, "and by just sticking together, I
know we'll come out swimmingly. Why don't you leave the hotel, and come
out here and batch with us, Luck? It would be so much cheaper; and I can
turn that couch in the kitchen into a bed, easy as anything. I'd like to
shake that Great Western Company for acting the way they have with you.
Think of offering a man a two-hundred-a-week position and then
haggling--"

"Say, Luck," the dried little man spoke up suddenly, "how much does one
of them there camaries cost? I'd be willin' to chip in and help buy one;
and, by gorry, we could make some movin' pitchers of our own and sell