But Carl did not hurt his head a bit. His head struck the tree very lightly. The thump was made by his fist, which, however, was kept concealed from the audience.
In the meantime Leo did some funny work on the ground, bending himself into an odd shape backward and hopping around after the released frog.
By this time a crowd had assembled in the grounds, for the grown folks were not supposed to come in until late. Seeing this, Carl stepped up on a little bench.
“Now, ladies and gentlemen, I will give you an exhibition of one of my most wonderful tricks,” he said. “Is any one of you a good shot with a horse-pistol?”
There was a pause, and then an elderly gentleman with but one arm stepped forward.
“I fancy I can accommodate you,” he said with a smile. “I am considered a crack shot, and was an officer in the cavalry.”
“Very well, sir; I will give you the pleasure of shooting me.”
As Carl spoke he brought out a long pistol.
“Please examine this,” he went on, and as the pistol went the round of the crowd he opened his valise and brought forth a horn of powder and a good-sized ball.
“I wish you would mark this bullet so you will know it again,” he continued. “And will somebody bring me a nice, ripe apple?”