From where he was he could not see which side was uppermost, and he was afraid to go and look.

But he had to look.

He had to know, for he was still boy enough to feel solemnly bound by the toss.

He walked slowly toward it, stared hard--and pounced like a kid after a hard-won marble.
"Heads, I go! That's the way I flipped 'er; it's a fair throw." At the sound of his voice ringing in the confined space, Sandy lifted his head and looked at Johnny tolerantly.

Johnny came toward him grinning, tossing the half-dollar and catching it, his steps springy.