Forgotten Tales of Long Ago

by E. V. Lucas

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,' said Master Sweepstakes, 'that is not fair; that's against the regulations. 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!'

'The everlasting whipcord, I declare.'—Page 241.

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. Master Sweepstakes clapped his hands, with loud exultations and insulting laughter. But his laughter ceased when our provident hero calmly drew from his pocket an excellent piece of whipcord.