"'It is none of my aid you are likely to want, Captain Lister,' he said, 'and I protest against the whole affair; it is nothing short of cold-blooded murder. Still, of course, I will go.'
"And now, lad, let us hear something more about your shooting."
"It is just as I told you, Captain Lister. I suppose I have an unusually good eye and steady hand, and have a sort of natural aptitude for shooting. Woodall said that he considered me as good a shot as any man in the country, if not better. I am afraid we mustn't fire a pistol here, or I think I could convince you."
"No, we mustn't fire in barracks at this time of the evening, Wyatt. But if you are as good as that, the prospects are better than I thought they were. What can you do, lad?"
"I can hit a penny spun up into the air eighteen times out of twenty with my right hand, and sixteen or seventeen with my left."
"Is that so? Well, that ought to be good enough for anything," Lister said. "It sounds almost miraculous. Now, let us have a look at your pistols, lad."
"They are all right," Frank said. "I was using them this afternoon, and cleaned them when I came back."
"And you really mean to aim at his hand?"
Frank nodded.
"Well, of course, if you go a little high or a little low you will still have him; but if you go an inch or two wide you may miss him altogether. I would much rather, lad, that you aimed at the body. The fellow has never shown mercy to anyone, and there is no reason why you should show mercy to him."