"Why? Do you intend to compete?" asked the priest.
"Yes, Father," was the reply. "Martin Cooper was there last year, and he says that I can shoot better than Coon-Hollow Jim."
"And who is Coon-Hollow Jim?" interrupted Father Byrne.
"Coon-Hollow Jim!" repeated Owen. "Why, I thought that everybody knew him! He is the best marksman in twelve miles from here, in a place called Coon-Hollow. They say he is about six feet and a half high."
"And do you think you can shoot better than such a man?" asked the priest, who was amused at the boy's earnestness.
"Martin told me that I could. Besides, I've been practicing for nearly a year. If you only help me, I think that I have a chance for the prize."
"How can I help you?" inquired the priest.
"By asking mother to let me go to the shooting match. She may think that I am too young. But if you ask her, she'll be sure to let me go."
"Well, then," said Father Byrne, "since you are so anxious, and have been practicing for such a long time, I'll ask permission for you."
"Thank you, Father. To-morrow Martin and I will catch robins; then we'll go out and practice every evening until the day of the shooting match."