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. And?" Otik
suspected, but could not believe, the outcome.
The kender burst out, "He won. I can't imagine how that could
have happened. He must have cheated."
"Undoubtedly. Well, you've been paid for your trip, but I'll give
you ale for your trouble, and a meal if you wish." Otik knelt and
opened the bag, running his hands through the hops.
"I ate on the road. I shared lunch with-well, with another
traveler." The kender twiddled at the end of the short hoopak stick
angled into his belt. The stick, at once the best weapon and chief
musical instrument of kender, seemed to trouble him.
Years of innkeeping had made Otik alive to evasion. "What sort
of traveler?"
"Human." Moonwick shrugged, grabbing again at the hoopak
stick as it slipped in his belt. "This thing doesn't seem to be
balancing properly."
Otik suddenly understood the kender's reluctance to speak of
the fellow traveler. "Perhaps that has to do with the purse hooked
onto the end of it," he observed.
"Purse?" The kender whirled around. The stick, naturally,
whirled with him. "I see no purse."
"Look over your shoulder. No, the other shoulder. The drawstring
is twisted over the end of your stick." Otik sighed as the kender
peered this way and that in apparent disbelief that he should ever
end up with another man's belongings.
"Why, look at that! A purse, just as you say. Imagine that. How
could that happen?"
"Seems incredible," Otik agreed politely
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