“Weel, we’ll gang and buy ane the day.”
And so they did—not a very heavy one, but a breech-loader by one of the best makers.
They also bought a spring-trap to throw crystal balls into the air, to represent birds. These balls were filled with feathers, so it was easy to see when they were broken.
For the first few days Willie was awkward enough, and hardly broke a ball; then all at once he seemed, to get into the knack of the thing, and broke the balls fast enough, and without apparent aim or effort.
The lad was rejoiced beyond measure. I am really afraid he neglected his studies somewhat for this new-fangled fad of his, only he was determined to wipe out what he looked upon as a stain on his character. He practised at home every morning, as well as going to Bob’s in the afternoons.
Bob had a bit of private shooting, and now he began to take Willie out with him, and an excellent hill-man the boy proved.
“Man,” said Bob more than once, “I’m perfectly prood o’ ye. And ye’re a’ ma ain makin’ too.”
Willie now added the revolver to his armoury. Very awkward, indeed, he was at first with this weapon, but the pistol was pronounced a good one, and he soon became very precise in his shooting indeed.
Now Willie was sly.
Willie never told Sandie, his friend, what he was doing or studying. Not he. If you had asked him why he did not, he might have replied—