"I was not kind. I let you carry the pack, although the cayuse knocked you down."
"Perhaps the knock accounts for something," Jimmy remarked in a languid voice.
He had got a nasty knock, but he imagined Stannard's cigars and Deering's iced drinks were really accountable. In the meantime, he noted that Margaret was wiping his tobacco pouch.
"You mustn't bother," he resumed. "Give me the thing."
"But when it's wet you cannot put in the tobacco."
"I thought you threw away the stuff. I can get another lot at the hotel."
Margaret brushed the tobacco from a flake of bark, and filled the pouch.
"In the woods, one doesn't throw away expensive tobacco."
"Thanks!" said Jimmy. "Some time since, I lived with people like you."
"Poor and frugal people?"