"They've done it in Germany," he continued, "and used it in the manufacture of high explosives. Is there any gentleman present who will tell me that what's been done in Germany, can't be done in Wyoming?"
The applause was tumultuous when he had further elucidated and finished. To get something out of nothing made a strong appeal to Prouty. It was criminal for Sudds to waste his abilities in a small community. They wondered why he did it.
Hiram Butefish, who succeeded the orator, felt a quite natural diffidence in giving to the Club his modest suggestion, but as he talked he warmed to his subject.
"I am convinced," declared Mr. Butefish, "that the future of Prouty lies in fossils."
"Human?" a voice inquired ironically.
"Clams," replied Mr. Butefish with dignity. "Also fish and periwinkles. Locked in Nature's boozem over there in the Bad Lands there's a world of them. I kicked 'em up last year when I was huntin' horses, and realized their value. They'd go off like hot cakes to high schools and collectors. We could get a professor in here cheap--a lunger, maybe--to classify 'em, and then we'd send out our own salesman. We can advertise and create a market.
"Gentlemen," solemnly, "we have not one iota of reason to be discouraged! With thousands of acres available for peppermint; with more air to the square inch than any place else in the world, with an inexhaustible bed of fossils under our very noses, all we need to fulfill the dreams of our city's founder is unity of effort and capital. In other words--MONEY!"
"And the longer you stay in Prouty the more you'll need it!"
The jeering voice from the rear of the room belonged to Toomey.
The Club turned its head and looked at the interrupter in astonishment. He was sitting in the high-headed arrogance with which once upon a time they had all been familiar. Though momentarily disconcerted, Mr. Butefish collected himself and retorted: "Perhaps you have something better to offer, Toomey."
"If I hadn't I wouldn't offer it," he replied insolently.
The thought that came instantly to every mind was that Toomey must have had a windfall. How else account for this sudden independence? This possibility tempered the asperity of Mr. Butefish's answer, though it still had plenty of spirit: "We are ready to acknowledge your--er--originality, Mr. Toomey, and will be delighted to listen."
To Toomey it was a rare moment. He enjoyed it so keenly that he wished he might prolong it. Uncoiling his long legs, he surveyed his auditors with a tolerant air of amusement: "I presume there are no objections to my mentioning a few of the flaws that I see in the schemes which have been outlined?"