"He's had your goat ever since the meeting opened," grinned the Sharpshooter.
This by way of reminding the Sharpshooter of something which he preferred to forget.
The Sharpshooter flashed his gold teeth at him in a cheerful smile.
"No-o," said The Sharpshooter, his lips pursed and his brow wrinkled.
He was killed by a bullet from the gun of a sharpshooter in Middletown.