a plate," said he. "I've paid more for worse--yes, a lot worse. But
by the way, Mac, where's that other can of oysters? I thought you said
there were four."

"That's what I said," broke in Tom Osby. "I done told Mac I ought to
bring 'em all down, but he said only three."

"Well," said McKinney, always a conservative and level-headed man, "I
allowed that if they would keep a month, they would keep a little
longer. Now you all know there's goin' to be a stage in next week, and
likely it'll bring the president of the New Jersey Gold Mills, who's
been due here a couple of weeks. Now here we are, hollerin' all the
time for Eastern Capital. What's the right thing for us to do when we
get any Eastern Capital into our town? This here man comes from
Philadelphy, which I reckon is right near the place where oysters
grows. What are you goin' to _do_? He's used to oysters; like enough
he eats 'em every day in the year, because he's shore rich. First
thing he hollers for when he gets here is _oysters_. Looks like you
all didn't have no public spirit. Are we goin' to give this here
Eastern man the things he's used to, kinder gentle him along like, you
know, and so get all the closeter and easier to him, or are we goin' to
throw him down cold, and leave him dissatisfied the first day he
strikes our camp? It shore looks to me like there ain't but one way to
answer that."

"And that there one answer," said Tom Osby, "is now a-reclinin' in the
snowbank up on Carrizy."

"I reckon that's so, all right, Mac," assented Curly, reflectively. "I
_could_ have et one more oyster or so, but I can quit if it's for the