She was returning swiftly down the ravine before he had reached the end of his conclusions. She held up something between dripping fingers as she entered the concealment of the trees.
"It's perfect still," she announced. "I thought it wouldn't be flattened or bent, since it struck the water."
Oliver took the small, soft-pointed, steel-banded projectile from her hands and studied it.
"M'm-m!" he muttered. "What's this? Looks no larger than a twenty-two."
She nodded. "So I'd say. A twenty-two high-power—wicked little pill."
"And which of the Poison Oakers packs a twenty-two high-power rifle? Do you know?"
"It happens that I do. I've taken the pains to acquaint myself with the various guns of the Poison Oakers. Most of them use twenty-five-thirty-fives. Old Man Selden, Bolar, and Jay Muenster use thirty-thirties. There's one twenty-two high-power Savage in the gang, and it's a new one. They say it's a devilish weapon."
"Who owns it?"
"Digger Foss."
"Then it was Foss who shot?"