"A couple of hundred thousand or so, is about all--" "Well, a fellow don't have to pin himself down to just so many dollars and cents--not when he's building himself a pet dream.

And if a fellow dreams about starting up an outfit of his own, it don't prove he'd make it stick in reality." The tone of Billy, however, did not express any doubt.
Mr.Dill untangled his legs, crossed them the other way and regarded the other dangling foot.

"I should like very much," he hinted mildly, "to have you tell me this--er--day-dream, as you call it." So Charming Billy, tilted back in his chair and watching with half-shut eyes the intangible smoke-wreath from his cigarette, found words for his own particular air-castle which he had builded on sunny days when the Double-Crank herds grazed peacefully around him; or on stormy nights when he sat alone in the line-camp and played solitaire with the mourning wind crooning accompaniment; or on long rides alone, when the trail was plain before him and the grassland stretched away and away to a far sky-line, and the white clouds sailed sleepily over his head and about him the meadowlarks sang.

And while he found the words, he somehow forgot Dill, long and lean and lank, listening beside him, and spoke more freely than he had meant to do when Dill first opened the subject a few minutes before.
"Recollect, this is just a day-dream," he began.

"But, if I was a millionaire, or if I had two hundred thousand dollars--and to me they don't sound much different--I'd sure start a cow-outfit right away immediately at once.