“He certainly can shoot, even if he is young.”
It was decided that Dave Morris and Ike Pelton should have one more shot each, the one coming nearest to the center of the target taking the second prize and the other taking the third prize. The toss made Pelton shoot first. All of the other shots on the target were chalked over, so that there might be no mistakes in scoring.
This time Pelton took more care than ever in shooting, and as a consequence put his bullet directly on the inner ring,—something which, though between 5 and 6, would count the higher number.
“I fancy the youngster can’t beat that,” said Gasway.
“Don’t be so sure,” answered a soldier who favored Dave.
Dave’s heart thumped loudly in his breast as he stepped up beside the tree-stump. But he kept outwardly calm and did what he could to steady his arms. He took one good look at the target, raised his rifle, and fired. The smoke cleared away and there was a second of silence.
“A miss!”
“What!” cried Dave and Henry, in a breath.
“The bullet does not seem to have touched the target,” announced the judge.
“Oh, I must have hit the target!” went on Dave. “Why, I aimed as carefully as before, when I made 16 in three shots.”