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Show llll no fire," he said. "Whose coat is it?" "Step aside," Pansy said, hitting Caribou with a large white muff. "Just a minute," he said. "Whose coat?" "It's ray mother's," Tip said. "My mother's white fox fur. And the muff. She told me to be sure and keep them." "You can't prove a thing, you little snip." Pansy scoffed. "Her name is embroidered in the lining," Tip said. "Mind if I check?" I asked. I pulled the coat from her shoulders• "I'll call the Mounties," Pansy said savagely. Even in the dim light from a frosted window we could easily read the golden embroidered name: Nell T. Trattner. "I'm going to call the Mounties," Pansy hissed, grabbing the coat. She was shivering with cold, and I could hear her teeth chattering-or maybe it was the ivory in her stockings. "Go ahead," I said. "And they will give you a blue ticket out of the territory. For theft." Realizing she was cornered, Pansy became playful. "Is that really you, Jamie?" she said sweetly. "Young Jamie, all grown up?" She sidled up close to me, pouting. "Now you wouldn't take a coat off a poor girl's back, would you?" "You could say that." I was too cold to argue, I grabbed |
