“You’re sure it was Bannister?”
“If seeing is believing, I’m sure.”
“And was his singing really so bad?”
“I’d hate ever to hear worse.”
“Was he singing when you saw him?”
“No, he’d just quit. He caught sight of my pony grazing, and hunted cover real prompt.”
“Then it might have been another man singing in the thicket.”
“It might, but it wasn’t. Y’u see, I’d followed him through the bush by his song, and he showed up the moment I expected him.”
“Still there might have been another man there singing.”
“One chance in a million,” he conceded.