did? Why, he paid a man down below here two stations--what do you
_think_ he paid him for as fine a heifer as ever eat cane? Why,
fifteen dollars!"

"Fifteen dollars!"

"Yes, fifteen dollars."

"That looks like a heap of money for a heifer, doesn't it, Colonel
Blount?"

"A heap of money? Why, no. Heap of _money_? Why, what you mean?"

"Heifers didn't bring that before the road came through. Why, you
would have had to drive that heifer twenty-five miles before you
could get a market, and then she wouldn't have brought over twelve
dollars. Now, fifteen dollars, seems to me, is about right."

"Well, let the heifer go. But there was a cow killed three miles
below here the other day. Neighbors of mine. I reckon that claim
agent wouldn't want to allow any more than fifteen dollars for Jim
Bowles' cow, neither."

"Maybe not."

"Well, never mind about the cow, either; but look here. A nigger lost
his wife down there, killed by these steam cars--looks like the
niggers get fascinated by them cars. But here's Bill coming at last.
Now, Mr. Eddring, we'll just make a little julep. Tell me, how do you
make a julep, sir?"