Harry took it, unwrapping the cord that held it closed and tipping the coinage into his open hand, pushing the copper and bronze this way and that with his thumb, counting it up. "We are a little short, aren't we? Well, you can give me that next time." He murmured, looking back to the bloodied and beaten man. Jack had been a clever lad, once upon a time. Not smart, but clever enough not to bungle thieving and not get caught as much as some. They had been friends, good friends. But fate dealt them different cards, and Harry was greatful to his Lady Luck. "Give him a hand to the door, Davey. Its Hawker's turn in the ring."