A very brown-faced man with twinkling gray eyes turned from buying black powder and felt wads to look at him amusedly.
"Hullo, Bobby," said he, "so your father's going to win the rifle and give it to you, is he? Are you sure?"
"Of course," replied Bobby simply; "my papa can do anything he wants to."
The man laughed.
"What do you know about rifles, and what would you do with one?" he asked.
"I know all about them," replied Bobby with great positiveness, "and I know where there's lots of squirrels."
The storekeeper had by now taken the Flobert from the show window. The other man reached out his hand for it.
"Well, tell me about this one," he challenged.
"It's a Flobert," said Bobby without hesitation, "and it weighs five and a half pounds; and its ri-fling has one turn in twenty-eight inches; and it has a knife-blade front sight, and a bar rear sight; and it shoots 22 longs, 22 shorts, C B caps, and B B caps. Only B B caps aren't very good for it," he added.
"Whew!" cried the man. "Here, take it!"