"My ordinary breech-loader."
"Carries far?"
"I should think so. Shoots hard and close as a rifle."
"Will it kill at fifty yards?"
"It might."
"Hermann," said Will, turning to the head-keeper, "I insist on being posted eighty yards distant from the Count."
"You think that is a joke," said the Count peevishly.
"I don't think it a joke at all," said Will. "Breech-loaders have a wonderful faculty of going off when nobody expects them; and though you may explain the thing satisfactorily afterwards, that won't remove a few buck-shot out of your leg."
"I am not in the habit of letting my gun go off accidentally," said the Count, grandly. "Indeed, I flatter myself that few men better understand the use of——"
"The Haupt-platz, Herr," said Hermann, unceremoniously breaking in upon his master. "The Herr Graf will be stationed farther down this path; you must not shoot in that direction. You may shoot in front as the deer comes to you, or after them when they have passed; not along this line, only."