"Come, come," cried young Sweepstakes, "I'm within one inch of the mark; who'll go nearer, I should like to see. Shoot away, Hal; but first, understand our laws: we settled them before you came on the green. You are to have three shots, with your own bow and your own arrows; and nobody's to borrow or lend under pretence of other bows being better or worse, or under any pretence. Do you hear, Hal?"
This young gentleman had good reasons for being so strict in these laws, as he had observed that none of his companions had such an excellent bow as he had provided for himself. Some of the boys had forgotten to bring more than one arrow with them, and by his cunning regulation, that each person should shoot with his own arrows, many had lost one or two of their shots.
"You are a lucky fellow; you have your three arrows," said young Sweepstakes. "Come, we can't wait whilst you rub your fingers, man—shoot away."
Hal was rather surprised at the asperity with which his friend spoke. He little knew how easily acquaintances, who call themselves friends, can change, when their interest comes, in the slightest degree, in competition with their friendship. Hurried by his impatient rival, and with his hand so much benumbed that he could scarcely feel how to fix the arrow in the string, he drew the bow. The arrow was within a quarter of an inch of Master Sweepstakes' mark, which was the nearest that had yet been hit. Hal seized his second arrow. "If I have any luck," said he but just as he pronounced the word luck and as he bent his bow, the string broke in two, and the bow fell from his hands.
"There, it's all over with you," cried Master Sweepstakes, with a triumphant laugh.
"Here's my bow for him and welcome," said Ben.
"No, no, Sir; that is not fair; that's against the regulation. You may shoot with your own bow, if you choose it, or you may not, just as you think proper but you must not lend it, Sir."
It was now Ben's turn to make his trial. His first arrow was not successful. His second was exactly as near as Hal's first.
"You have but one more," said Master Sweepstakes: "now for it!"
Ben, before he ventured his last arrow prudently examined the string of his bow; and as he pulled it to try its strength, it cracked.