"you
deserve
to win, anyhow. Who's next?"
"Dick Varley," cried several voices; "where's Varley?
Come on, youngster, an' take yer shot."
The youth came forward with evident reluctance.
"It's of no manner o' use," he whispered to Joe Blunt
as he passed, "I can't depend on my old gun."
"Never give in," whispered Blunt, encouragingly.
Poor Varley's want of confidence in his rifle was