He said he'd give me two dozen of his, and Leon could pay him back.

We went together to get them, and there was only one there.
Wasn't that exactly like Leon?
Leave ONE for the nest egg! If he were dying and saw a joke or a trick, he'd stop to play it before he finished, if he possibly could.

If he had no time at all, then he'd go with his eyes twinkling over the thoughts of the fun it would have been if he possibly could have managed it.

Of course when we saw that one lonely egg in the cider hopper, just exactly like the "Last Rose of Summer, left to pine on the stem," I thought of the sack Leon carried, and knew what had been in it.

We hurried out and tried to find him, but he was swallowed up.