"As straight as her father, I should say. I never saw him. But I've seen her."
"What do?"
"Stand in the veranda and knock a crow off the well fence—with her own revolver."
"By cripes, that's a lie."
(It was.)
"I'm not so blooming sure," said Bill. "I recollect how the old man dropped Tigerskin at nigh twenty yards. She was with him, too, at the time—a kid out of bed. I took a shot at her and missed. She'd be as likely as not to knock a hole through one or other of us, lads, if you hadn't got me to see you through. You trust to Bill for ideas! He's got one now, but it'll keep. See here, you swine, you! When was it you saw all what you pretend to have seen, eh?"
Engelhardt laughed. His answer could do no harm, and it gave him a thrill of satisfaction to score even so paltry a point against his bestial antagonist.
"It was the day you two came around the station."
"That morning?"
"Yes."