'Ay, your red cloak that you parted with to the woman at the circus. I heard about it. If I shoot the dog, half the prize money goes to you.'
'Not so, Larry. It is, or will be, all your own.'
'But you first saw the dog, you share the watch, you keep up the fire, and brew me a posset. How was it with David's soldiers? What was his decision? They that tarried with the stuff should share with those that went to war. You have Scripture against you, Honor, and will have to take ten-and-six.'
'Don't reckon and divide before the dog is shot.'
'If he comes this way he shall sup off lead, never doubt. Then you shall have your red cloak again.'
Honor sighed. 'No, Larry, I shall never see it more. The fair is over, the circus gone, whither I know no more than what has become of yesterday.'
'Charles behaved very badly. Of course I did not mention it before, but we are alone together now, and I may say it.'
'He did not act rightly—he meant it as a joke.'
'I can't forgive him for robbing you of your pretty red cloak. Here, Honor, take it. I have it.'
Then he pulled out a closely folded bundle and extended it to her. The girl was surprised and pleased. This was considerate and kind of Larry. She had noticed him carrying this bundle, but had given no thought as to what it was. Her eyes filled.