But Black? He threw the rifle on the ground and rubbed his collar-bone and chin. His spectacles fell off. From where Fernie stood it looked as if he might be swearing.
"What's the matter? Have another shot," shouted Fernie, as he walked towards his friend.
"Nothing much the matter, but I don't want another shot. It hurts too much, and you said it wouldn't."
"Hurt? Nonsense! Slip in another cartridge."
"I won't."
Fernie picked up the rifle and began to wipe off the dust with his hand. "Hulloa! What on earth have you done to the thing?"
"Done to it?"
"Why yes; this bulge in the barrel."
"Did I do that?"
"Well, it wasn't like that before."