"Uh...fifteen thousand."

"You think so? I don't. I know how old he is without looking at his teeth, and just what you paid for him, off the ship. I know what people around here can afford and will pay. But go ahead; he's yours. Bear in mind that if you put a low-bid price against him, you owe the auctioneer ten percent even if he doesn't sell. But it's your business, Clyde. Now get out of my way; I want to get this child into town and lying down; she's had a bad time."

"Uh...what will you pay?"

"Twelve thousand."

"Why, that's robbery!"

"You don't have to take it. Suppose an auction brings fifteen thousand dollars-as you hope. Your net is thirteen five. But suppose an auction brings only ten thousand, which I find more likely. You net nine thousand. G'bye, Clyde; I'm in a hurry."

"Well-thirteen thousand?"

"Clyde, I named my top price. You've dealt with me often enough to know that when I say it's top dollar, then it's top dollar. But-throw in that saddle and bridle and answer one question and I'll sweeten it by five hundred dollars."

"What question?"

"How did you happen to migrate?"

Learner looked startled, then laughed unmirthfully. "Because I was crazy, if you want to know the truth."

"Aren't we all? That's hardly an answer, Clyde."

"Well...my old man is a banker-and as hard-nosed, as you are! I was doing all right, I had a proper, respectable job, teaching. College. But the pay wasn't much, and my old man was always snotty about it when I ran a little short. Snoopy. Disparaging Finally I got so sick of it that I asked him what he would think of paying Yvonne s fare and mine in the 'Andy'J.'? Migrate. Be rid of us.

To my surprise he agreed But I didn't back out. I knew that a man with a fine education like mine could get ahead anywhere and it wasn't like we was being dumped on some wild planet; we were second wave you may remember.

Only it was a wild planet and I've had to do things that no gentleman ought to have to touch. But you just wait Banker, kids around here are growing up and there will be a place for higher education, not the trivia Mrs. Mayberry teaches in that so-called school of hers. That's where I come in- you'll be calling me 'Professor' yet, and speaking respectfully.

'You'll see."

"Good luck to you. Are you accepting my offer? Twelve thousand five hundred, net, including bridle and saddle."

"Uh...I said I was, didn't I?"

"You didn't say. You still have not."

"I accept."

The girl child had listened quietly, face serious. Gibbons said to her, "Can you stand up a moment, dear?"

He put her down; she trembled and held onto his kilt. Gibbons dug into his sporran-, then using Buck's broad rump as a desk, wrote a draft and a bill of sale. He handed them to Learner. "Take that to Hilda at the bank. Sign the bill of sale and give it back to me."

Silently Learner signed, looked at the draft and pocketed it, handed over the bill of sale. "Thanks; Banker-you old skinflint. Where do you want him delivered?"

"You've delivered him. Dismount."

"Huh? How do I get to the bank? How am I supposed to get home?"

"You walk."

"What? Well, of all the sneaky, underhanded tricks! You get the mule when I get the cash. At the bank."

"Learner, I paid top dollar for that mule because I need him now. But I see that we did not have a meeting of minds. Okay, hand back my draft and here's your bill of sale."

'Learner looked startled. "Oh, no, you don't! You made a deal."

"Then get off my mule at once"-Gibbons just happened to rest his hand on the handle of the all-purpose knife every man carried-"and dogtrot into town and you'll be there before Hilda closes,. Now move." His eyes, cold and blank, held Learner's.

"Can't you take a joke?' Learner grumbled as he swung down. He started walking rather fast toward town.

"Oh, Clyde!"

Learner stopped; "What do you want now?"

"If you see the Volunteer Fire Team headed this way, tell them it's too late; the Harper place is gone. But tell McCarthy I said it wouldn't hurt to send a couple of men to check."

"Okay, okay!"

"And, Clyde-what was it you used to teach?'

"Teach'? I taught 'Creative Writing.' I told you I had a good education."

"So you did. Better hurry; Hilda closes promptly, she has to pick up her kids at Mrs. Mayberry's school."

Gibbons ignored Learner's answer, picked up the little girl, then said, "Steady, Buck. Stand still, old fellow," He swung the child high, settled her gently astride the mule's withers. "Hang onto his mane." He toed the left stirrup, swung up behind her, scooted back in the saddle, then lifted her again and placed her somewhat in his, lap but mostly in the saddle just back of the pommel. "Hang onto the horn, dear. Both hands. Comfortable?"

"This is fun!"

"Lots of fun, baby girl. Buck! Hear me, boy?"

The mule nodded.

"Walk. Walk back to town. Slow walk. Steady. Don't stub your feet. Get me? I'm not going to use the reins."

"Shrrow...Rrrawkr"

"Right, Buck." Gibbons took a hitch in the reins, let them fall loosely on Buck's neck-squeezed the mule with his knees, let him go. Buck ambled toward town.

After a few minutes the little girl said gravely, "What about Mama and Daddy?"

"Mama and Daddy are all right. They know I'm taking care of you. What's your name, dear?"

"Dora."

"That's a nice name, Dora. A pretty name. Do you want to know my name?"

"That man called you 'Banker.'"

"That's not my name, Dora; that's just something I do sometimes. My name is...'Uncle Gibbie.' Can you say that?"

"'Uncle Gibbie.' That's a funny name."

"So it is, Dora. And this is Buck we are riding. He is a friend of mine, and he'll be your friend, too, now-so say hello to Buck."

"Hello, Buck."

"Hayrrroh Jorrrah!"

"Say, he talks lots plainer than most mules! Doesn't he?"

"Buck is the best mule on New Beginnings, Dora And the smartest. When we get rid of this bridle-Buck doesn't need a bit in his mouth-he'll be able to talk plainer still and you can each him more words. Would you like that?"

"Oh, yes!" Dora added, "If Mama lets me."

"It's' all right with Mama. Do you like to sing, Dora?"

"Oh, sure! I know a clapping song. But we can't clap right now. Can we?"

"Right now I think we had better hang on tight." Gibbons rapidly reviewed in his mind his repertoire of happy songs, rejected a round dozen as unsuitable for young ladies. "How about this one?

"There's a pawnshop

On the corner

Where I usually keep my overcoat.

"Can you sing that, Dora?'

"Oh, that's easy!" The baby girl sang it in a voice so high that Gibbons was reminded of a canary. "Is that all, Uncle Gibbie? And what's a 'paunshot'?"

"It's a place to keep overcoats when you don't need them. Lots more, Dora. Thousands and thousands of verses."

"Thousands and thousands-' Why, that's almost as much as a hundred. Isn't it?"

"Almost, Dora. Here's another verse:

"There's a trading post

By the pawnshop

Where my sister sells candy.

"Do you like candy, Dora?"

"Oh, yes! But Mama says its 'spensive."

"Won't be so expensive next year, Dora; there'll be more sugar beets cropped. But...Open your mouth and close your eyes, and I'll give you something for a s'prise!'" 'He felt around in his shirt pocket, then said, "Oh, sorry, Dora; the surprise will have to wait until I can get to the trading post; Buck got the last one. Buck likes candy, too."

"He does?"

"Yes and I'll teach you how to give it to him without losing a finger by mistake. But candy isn't too good for him, so he gets it only as a special surprise. For being a good boy. Okay, Buck?"