Paul, with just pride in his initial achievement with the rifle, strolled forward to exhibit his gun to Dan, who was splicing a rope near the foremast, and had been an interested spectator of the target practice.
“Hello, Dan,” he greeted.
“Hello, Paul. Been ailin’?”
“Ailing! I was awfully sick for two days.”
“We were havin’ a bit of nasty sea. ’Tis bad for the seasickness.”
“You bet it got me, all right. Would you like to see my rifle?”
“Yes, I were wantin’ t’ see un.” Dan took the rifle, looked it over, threw it up to his shoulder and sighted it, like one accustomed to the use of firearms.
“She’s a wonderful fine gun!” he exclaimed. “A rare fine gun! An’ she’s pretty, too. I never seen such a fine gun—and such a pretty un.”
“Can you shoot?”