“We had fifteen killed and twenty wounded,” announced the engineer triumphantly.
“How badly wounded?”
“What's that to you? Hand over the cognac?”
“Like hell. We had fifteen killed and twenty wounded too, didn't we, Toby?”
“I reckon you're right,” said Toby.
“Ain't I right?” asked the other man, addressing the company generally.
“Sure, goddam right,” muttered voices.
“Well, I guess it's all off, then,” said the engineer.
“No, it ain't,” said Toby, “reckon up yer wounded. The feller who's got the worst wounded gets the cognac. Ain't that fair?”
“Sure.”