"Tomorrow morning. Forty cars."
"And they'll go to Omaha."
"And on to Chicago, I expect. And then they'll be beef, and nobody will ever be able to say what they were."
He put the papers down on the table and laid his hand flat on top of them. "You made my iron," he said. "In seventy-eight. I stood there and watched you do it."
"Yes."
"You put your mark on it. I asked you to."
"Yes. I put it on this one too."