"Sure."
Without looking at the other, Jeff gave him the knife. He started a
fire, laid the trout back on the grill, and started cooking them. Jeff
seasoned the fish and asked, "Had breakfast?"
"Yup."
Jeff gave half the trout to Pal and gravely stripped the flesh from his
own share. He gave Pal the stripped bones, went down to the stream, dug
a handful of sand from it, and scrubbed the grill clean. Barr Whitney
was still opening and closing the blade, scissors, awl, screwdriver,
file, and fork that folded into the clasp knife's stag handle. He spoke,
"Good knife."
"Yeah," Jeff agreed.
"How much?"
"Six dollars."
Silence followed. Jeff, who had guessed that Barr Whitney was as likely
to have six thousand as six dollars, made up his pack.