"I tried to tell you I hadn't anything you'd want."
"You should have somethin' to please a poor old woman."
"I know. If I had anything good enough for you—Oh, darn!"
A skein of yarn tumbled out of the pack and caught on a buckle. Jeff reached through the slit for one of the many-bladed knives, opened the scissors, and carefully snipped the tangled wool off. Granny clapped joyful hands.
"I knew it! I knew it! Give me that."
Jeff handed her the knife. Granny's eyes shone.
"Just the thing!" she cried ecstatically. "Just what I need! My eyes ain't what they used to be. I missed two shots at runnin' bucks last fall and I'm forever mislayin' my necessaries. 'Twould be handy to have so many in one piece. Cash or swap?"
Jeff said recklessly, "Let's call it a gift, Granny."
"But," she was honestly troubled, "you can't give me aught that cost you dear."
"Yes I can."