"And now," Sam said, "we will visit the rude dwellings of this simple, primitive, but hospitable people."
"People!" Ppon projected. "You better mind your language, Buster! People, indeed!"
"Our friend Qan will lead the way." Sam waved toward me.
I smiled back at him, but didn't move.
"Whatsa matter?" he hissed. "Don't you trust me? Your old pal Sam?"
"No," I whispered back. "Last time I let you pay me at the end of the tour, the take was $3.75 short."
He tried another tack. "But look, Qan, it's a hell of a job getting all those coins together. Why can't you take paper money instead?"
"What good would paper money do me up here?"
"What I can't figure out is what good the metal does you up here, either."
I beamed. "We eat it."