There was the free and careless thoughtlessness of a boy about this young fellow.

And, though he glanced down the glimmering blade of the weapon, with a sort of sinister joy, Frederic Fernand did not greatly care.

There was more to admire in the workmanship of the hilt than in a thousand such blades, but a Westerner would have his eye on the useful part of a thing.
"How much d'you think that's worth ?" asked McKeever.
"Dunno," said Ronicky.

"That's good steel." He tried the point, then he snapped it under his thumb nail and a little shiver of a ringing sound reached as far as Frederic Fernand.
Then he saw Ronicky Doone suddenly lean a little across the table, pointing toward the hand in which McKeever held the pack, ready for the deal.
McKeever shook his head and gripped the pack more closely.
"Do you suspect me of crooked work ?" asked McKeever.

He pushed back his chair.