“I say.”
“Well?”
“It was an awfully bad shot, that last of mine.”
“It was,” admitted Victor, with a laugh, “to miss a thing as big as a door at a hundred yards is only so-so.”
“No chance of improvement, I fear,” said Ian, with a sigh.
“Oh, don’t say that,” replied Victor. “Practice, perseverance, and patience, you know, overcome every—”
“Yes, yes. I know that well. Good-bye.” They shook hands again, and were soon striding over the snow to their respective homes.