dinner."

"That is to say--" said I.

"We're goin' to have oysters!" he replied.

"Oh, Curly!" objected I, petulantly, "what's the use lying? I'll
agree that you may perhaps marry the girl--I don't care anything about
that. But as to oysters, you know there never was an oyster in Heart's
Desire, and never will be, world without end."

"Huh!" said Curly. "Huh!" And presently, "Is that _so_?"

"You know it's so," said I.

"Is that so?" reiterated he once more. "Nice way to act, ain't it,
when you're ast out to dinner in the best society of the place? Tell a
feller he's shy on facts, when all he's handin' out is just the plain,
unfreckled truth, for onct at least. We got oysters, four cans of 'em,
and done had 'em for a month. They're up there." He jerked a thumb
toward the top of old Carrizo Mountain. I looked at the snow, and in
a flash comprehended. There, indeed, was cold storage, the only cold
storage possible in Heart's Desire!

"Tom Osby brought 'em down from Vegas the last time he come down," said
Curly. "They're there, sir, four cans of 'em. You know where the
Carrizo spring is? Well, there's a snowbank in that cañon, about two
hundred yards off to the left of the spring. The oysters is in there.
Keep? They got to keep!