The third evening after their arrival, young Jack and Harry Girdwood strolled out together.
They no doubt would have enjoyed the company of the two girls, but little Emily and Paquita had been roving about the town all day long, and were too tired to go out that evening.
"What is this place, Jack?" asked Harry, as they both paused in front of a narrow, but brilliantly-lighted doorway.
"A shooting gallery, I fancy."
"Shall we go in?"
"Certainly; but I don't fancy the French are very great 'shootists,' as the Yankees say."
"All the more fun, perhaps."
And without more talk, the youngsters walked in.
It was a long room, divided by slight partitions into four different galleries, and at the end of each of these was a target in the shape of a doll.
After watching others for a time, Harry took half a dozen shots at one of the figures, which he struck four times.