“If it were not for Aunt Elizabeth, I’d go to-morrow,” he said, as he returned from his shower one morning, ruddy from head to foot with vigorous toweling. “By Jove, I know what I’ll do. I’ll get hold of Wallie and have it out with him. That ought to be exciting enough to satisfy me for a day or two at least. I’m getting altogether too healthy to stand this sort of life. I need room to move round in—town’s too small for me.”
As he dressed, he noticed his rifle standing in the corner. Its soiled and worn canvas case looked grim and businesslike, contrasted with its quiet-colored and orderly surroundings. As he knotted his tie carefully, he caught the reflection of the rifle in the glass. Without waiting to put on vest or coat, he strode to the corner, stripped the case from the gun, and eyed it enthusiastically. A faint smell of wood-smoke came to him. He balanced the rifle in his hands and then raised it to his shoulder abruptly, sighting at a particularly ghoulish looking chimney-pot. He cocked the Winchester, centred the bead on the unoffending chimney-pot, and without dreaming that the rifle was loaded, pulled the trigger.
The prisoned roar of the explosion of the heavy .45 stunned him for a moment. “Great Caesar! And that thing’s been loaded ever since—ever since—well, I guess I was a bit off to leave a cartridge in that gun. Heavens! I hope Aunt Bess isn’t frightened.”
But his aunt’s white face in the doorway was a silent accusation that brought him to her as shamefaced as a reprimanded schoolboy.
“Davy! Davy! what did you do?”
“I’m awfully sorry. It was stupid and foolish of me, but I couldn’t resist the temptation to sight at one of those chimney-pots—and I had no idea the rifle was loaded.”
“I didn’t know what had happened, David.”
Her tone implied more than she was aware of, as his countenance showed. He flushed and looked away from her, as the full meaning of her remark came to him.
“Don’t worry, Aunt Bess. It’s nothing like that; simply a superabundance of October air. Please go to your room. It’s drafty here.”
He finished dressing, glancing at intervals, toward the rifle, which he finally slid into the case and stood in the corner. Before going downstairs he went to the window and looked out, withdrawing his head with a boyish grin as he saw the shattered top of the chimney-pot.