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. "If there's ever anything I can do for you, don't
hesitate to --"
"There is," the human interrupted him. "You collect
bones. I collect maps. How did you know that when
you gave me that expertly crafted one as payment the
other night? I was wondering if you had any more
from that period?" Here was where he had to tread
lightly. "Actually, the map you gave me was of only
half of Kendermore. Was that merely an oversight?"
Trapspringer looked genuinely surprised. "Are you
sure? I didn't think I had any 'half maps.' That was one
of Uncle Bertie's, you know, although I'm not sure
who he was, or if he was even my uncle. Isn't it rather
odd for humans to collect things, particularly maps?
My nephew's family collects them, but then that's
what they do -- make maps, that is."
Phineas's brain ached. His business was conning
kender, not trying to figure out how kender were con-
ning him.
"Yes, it is a bit of an odd hobby for a human," he
agreed at last. "But I've been living among you kender
for some time now, and I guess your better habits are
rubbing off on me. Next to money, maps just seemed
the most useful thing to collect. Particularly a map of
Kendermore, since I live here. Now, how about the
other half of that map?" Phineas pulled his section out
and showed the kender how streets and their names
were cut off midway along the frayed edge.
Trapspringer lifted his cap and scratched under his
tight, silvery topknot. "Let me check."
Phineas's heart raced as he watched Trapspringer
reach into his cape and pull out a four-inch stack of
faded, folded sheets of parchment
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