"I can't use it—'em. I thought ... I ..." he began, backing rapidly toward the door, moving with accelerated speed as he put distance between them.
"Two-Bits, you wait!" she commanded. "I'm going to find out what this is before you go."
He looked about in a fresh agony of embarrassment but her order had rendered him unable to move. Jane broke the string, took off the wrapping and opened a paper box. Within reposed a pair of spurs, as small spurs as her boots were small boots. They were beautiful products of some mountain forge, one-piece steel, heavily engraved by hand, silver plated. Small silver chains and hand-tooled straps were attached and as she held them up the delicate rowels jingled like tiny bells.
"Two-Bits!" she cried. "Aren't they beautiful?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said, and made for the door again.
She caught him by the arm that time, else he would have fled, and she made him look at her.
"Two-Bits, you lied to me! You didn't find these on the road, now, did you?"
"Well, that is.... Not exactly, ma'am,"—weakly.
"Where did they come from?"
"A fella, he made 'em an' give 'em to me an' they was too small for me—"