Sam, Queen of the Gutter Rats, felt a flicker of irritation toward Scat, though she knew it wasn’t all his fault. She should have warned him what the pharmacist might demand in trade. The man was unpredictable, sometimes picky, other times needlessly cruel. Scat emptied his pockets. He laid everything on the counter: an old pocket watch, and several coins. His hands trembled hoping it would be enough. He suddenly wished he had grabbed the cool rock, bottle opener and fancy key from his room to include in the barter.