"Beech."
"Beech-leaves are pretty thick in August?" asked Lincoln.
"Ye-es, ruther," gasped the witness, seeing a new pitfall yawning just ahead of him.
"And yet light enough from the moon came through these thick beech-trees to let you know Tom Grayson?"
"Yes."
"And you could see him shoot?"
"Yes."
"And you full twenty feet away?"
"Well, about that; nearly twenty, anyhow." Dave shifted his weight to his right foot.
"And you pretend to say to this court that by the moonlight that you got through the beech-trees in August you could even see that it was a pistol that Tom had?"