“I bet he hits that fellow on the fence!”
Tom could not help laughing as Mr. Ellsworth, with unruffled confidence, stepped in place.
“Oi—oi—oi—here’s where Hiawatha turns over in his grave!”
It surprised Tom quite a little that they did not seem to stand at all in awe of the scoutmaster. One boy began ostentatiously passing his hat around.
“For the benefit of Sitting Bull Ellsworth,” said he, “highest salaried artist in Temple’s lot—positively last appearance this side of the Rockies!”
But “Sitting Bull” Ellsworth had the laugh on them all. Straight inside the first ring went his arrow, and he stepped aside and gave an exceedingly funny wink at Tom on the fence.
Tom changed his favorite.
Presently Roy sauntered over to the fence and spoke to him. “Regular shark at it, isn’t he?”
“Which one is Westy?” Tom asked.
“Westy? That fellow right over there with the freckles. If you get up close you can see the Big Dipper on his left cheek. He’s got Orion under his ear too.”