With a smile Dick turned away and joined the crowd round the referee's chair, and when his name was called a moment later among the names of four others he brought his rifle from a wagon and stood in view of the crowd. The first applause given that day was accorded him, for in addition to its being his first appearance in a shooting match he was universally popular.
“Bully fur you, Dick; here's my han' wishing you luck!” said a cheery-voiced farmer, shaking Dick's hand.
“It's the way with all these young strips,” said Lawson in a loud, boastful tone. “Gwine to conquer the whole round world. He'll grin on tother side o' his mouth when Bettie, the lead queen, barks and spits in the very centre o' that spot out yander.”
A feeble murmur of admiration greeted this vaunting remark, but it quickly subsided as the crowd noted that Dick Martin did not reply even by so much as to raise his eyes from the inspection of his gun. The referee called for order.
“Jim Baker,” said he, “be so kind as to drive round yore stall-fed heifer. Ladies an' gentlemen [as a man emerged from a group of wagons and drove a fine-looking young cow into the open space], here's a heifer in fine enough order to make any man's eyes sore to look. Fifteen round dollars has been paid in, by the five men who are to burn powder to-day, $3 apiece, an' the man whose shootin' iron can fling lead the straightest on this occasion is entitled to the beef and the championship o' this valley till next fall. Now, Mr. Baker, lead out yore cow, an' the shooters will please form in a line.”
When the aspirants stood in front of him the referee continued:
“Here is five pieces o' straw, all different lengths. The man who gets the shortest one shoots fust, the next longest next, an' so on till you've all had yore crack.”
Passing the straws to the riflemen, and af ter they had drawn one each from his tightly closed hands, he ordered a man to set up the target—a planed plank, about one foot in width and six in length, with a round marked spot about three inches in diameter, near the top.
“I'd willin'ly give my chance o' oats to have some o' them boys knock the stuffin' clean out'n Lawson; he's that stuck up he cayn't hardly walk,” said Bagley, his anger intensified by observing the sneering smile on Lawson's face.
“I'm mighty afeard,” said the man to whom Bagley was speaking, “that Dick Martin 'll lose his $3. I never heerd o' him bein' any han' with a gun.”