"Oh, paw he's had about five women," he mused. "My maw first, and then Iry's, and there's three sence. Serildy Byng, his next-to-last, was a middling civil woman; but she never stayed long. This last one is just fifteen, and haint got no manners. I have to fight her most every day, she picks on me'n Iry so. Paw he has a sorry time learning her to behave."
"I have heared something about your paw being right smart of a mean man," said Philip.
"Bet he can't hold a candle to Blant," put in Nucky, jealously.
"Maybe he can't, and maybe he can," drawled Joab, provokingly.
"Nobody haint as quick on the trigger as Blant," declared Nucky; "I'll bet nobody haint kilt and wounded more inside a few months than him, or would have been in jail more times if the officers could have kotch him and helt him."
"Jail," murmured Joab, contemptuously, "jail haint nothing! My paw's spent two year at Frankfort!"
The boys all exclaimed in admiration. "Gee-oh," said Philip, with new respect, "I never knowed he'd been penitentiaried."
"How many has he kilt?" inquired Nucky, skeptically.
"Oh, no more'n he had to," drawled Joab.
"I heared something about his killing off a few Lusks," said Taulbee.