“Aye, aye, sir. Leaders take their places for another round.”
Flink was called to the mark first. He was plainly nervous. Perhaps his nervousness was not lessened by the glimpse he caught of Sam Hickey’s face. Sam was grinning broadly, but he could not be accused of attempting to interfere with Flink, because he was not looking at him. Sam was looking at Dan at that particular moment.
Flink took his sight, then pulled the trigger with a nervous finger.
“Miss,” came the wig-wag signal.
Dan took his place and fired. He made a bull’s-eye.
Sam came next. As before he took a great deal of time in preparation.
“He’s posing,” muttered Dan. “He might better attend to his business.”
However, Sam Hickey knew what he was about. If he missed, he would have the satisfaction of knowing that it was not through carelessness.
At last he seemed satisfied as to his position, arriving at which decision, he lost no time in bringing the rifle to his shoulder and pulling the trigger.
“Bull’s-eye!”