Gus went over to the mantle and opened a wooden box there, removed one of the cartridges in it, and brought it over to me. I returned the rifle to him...as he handed me the cartridge. Just the brass case was longer than my middle finger and fatter. The bullet and its paper patch projected beyond the brass case a good three-quarters of an inch with the paper patch covering half of the exposed bullet. The cartridge was quite heavy by itself."And this kicks?" I asked."Oh, yes!" Gus answered with a. "But he didn't recognize me." That's not surprising. You look like a boy of twelve instead of a young woman of, what, sixteen?" Nearly seventeen," she said with a smile as our food arrived."Is he still in town?"She nodded again, taking a big bite. "Dressed plainly, in mufti, looks like a farmer I suppose or a drover." You think he is spying for them, for the British?" Oh yes," she said. "Can't think of why else he would be around." Turncoat and spy," I said, "they'll hang him twice."She smiled.. More

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