“They settled the matter like any gentleman would, with a duel.”

“You mean…fifty paces? Pistols at dawn?”

The old man laughed, which quickly turned into a rheumy cough. “No, both your grandfather and Moreno were level-headed enough to know that a murder would involve the police and complicate the ownership of the land. They shot skeet at a local hunters’ club known to both. Each man put up his own skeet bid: your grandfather his land holdings, Moreno a quarter of his.”

“That doesn’t sound fair.”

“The Morenos, then as now, had large holdings. A quarter of their lands were more than equal to your grandfather’s holdings.”

“What happened then?”

“After all the efforts to find a fair solution, Moreno tipped the odds in his own favor through subterfuge. He replaced your grandfather’s clay skeet with hardened ones that wouldn’t register a hit.”