"Aoh."
There was another silence. Finally Pete Whitney asked, "What ye peddlin?"
"What do you need?"
"I ast you."
"Cash or swap?"
"Swap." Pete looked surprised that anyone should think he had cash.
"What can you swap?"
Pete reached inside his shirt and drew out a knife. It was much cruder than the works of art Jeff had had from Bart Whitney. But it was sturdy, and the blade, Jeff thought wryly, was certainly keen enough to penetrate anything that Pete might have reason to stab. Since there was a buyer for everything, it stood to reason that there would be a buyer for Pete's knife. Jeff went to his pack, took out a cheap jackknife, a compass and a wrapped parcel. He extended the knife.
"I'll swap even for this."
Pete accepted the knife, opened it, tried the blade on the back of his horny hand, and passed it back.