Cling!

"A bull's-eye!"

Cling!

"Another bull's-eye, I declare!"

Cling!

"Three bull's-eyes, of all things! Snap, you are getting to be
a wonder with the rifle. Why, even old Jed Sanborn couldn't do
better than that."

Charley Dodge, a bright, manly boy of fifteen, laid down the rifle
on the counter in the shooting gallery and smiled quietly. "I
guess it was more luck than anything, Shep," he replied. "Perhaps
I couldn't do it again."

"Nonsense," came from Sheppard Reed, also a boy of fifteen. "You
have got it in you to shoot straight and that is all there is to
it. I only wish I could shoot as well."

"How did you fellows make out?" came from a third youth, as he
entered the gallery. He was sixteen years old but hardly as large
as the average lad of ten.

"Snap just made three bull's-eyes!" cried Shep Red. "Made them
as easily as pie, too."