goot luck."

"Bravo, Henri!" said Major Hope as he passed; "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 merited, for, on
pulling the trigger, the faithless lock missed fire.

"Lend him another gun," cried several voices.

"'Gainst rules laid down by Major Hope," said Scraggs.

"Well, so it is; try again."

Varley did try again, and so successfully, too, that the ball hit the
nail on the head, leaving a portion of the lead sticking to its edge.

Of course this was greeted with a cheer, and a loud dispute began as
to which was the better shot of the two.

"There are others to shoot yet," cried the major. "Make way. Look