exclaimed Varley, with a sudden burst of enthusiasm.
"Whoever got it wouldn't have much to brag of," remarked
a burly young backwoodsman, as he joined them.
His remark was true, for poor Dick's weapon was
but a sorry affair. It missed fire, and it hung fire; and
even when it did fire, it remained a matter of doubt in
its owner's mind whether the slight deviations from
the direct line made by his bullets were the result of
his
or