"Oh, misery! Well, a raise in the price of steers."

"No."

"Yu' said yu' wanted my opinion," said Lin. "Seems like yu' merely figure
on givin' me yours."

"Very well," said I. "Very well, then."

I took up a copy of the Cheyenne Sun. It was five weeks old, and I soon
perceived that I had read it three weeks ago; but I read it again for
some minutes now.

"I expect a railroad would be more important," said Mr. McLean,
persuasively, from the floor.

"Than a rise in steers?" said I, occupied with the Cheyenne Sun. "Oh yes.
Yes, a railroad certainly would."

"It's got to be money, anyhow," stated Lin, thoroughly wakened. "Money in
some shape."

"How little you understand the real wants of the country!" said I, coming
to the point. "It's a girl."

Mr. McLean lay quite still on the floor.

"A girl," I repeated. "A new girl coming to this starved country."

The cow-puncher took a long, gradual stretch and began to smile. "Well,"