scanning the three of us slowly with an emotion on her scary face that appeared to be nervous glee , she inquired if our boasted knowledge of the use of guns could be anything but real ; fess-up , was what she was saying in other words ; confess that you are lying now and ill go easy on you later ; but she concentrated her prying question especially , intently , on me , seeing the weakest link in that chain of children , and expressing her own trepidation even around the literary flintlocks which she said shot up the pages of any of mister james fennimore coopers novels , her favorite casual reading .