The swinging targets were shattered by Wonota as fast as the man could
hook them to the string and set the string to swinging. Then he threw
glass balls filled with feathers into the air for the Indian girl to
explode.

It was evident that she was not doing as well as usual, for she missed
several shots. But this was not because of her own nervousness. Since
the pony had been cut with Dakota Joe's whip it would not stand still,
and its nervousness was plainly the cause of Wonota's misses.

The owner of the show was, however, the last person to admit this. He
showed more than annoyance as the act progressed.

Perhaps it was the strained relations so evident between the owner of
the show and Wonota that affected the man attending to the targets, for
he became rather wild. He threw a glass ball so far to one side that to
have shot at it would have endangered the spectators, and the Indian
girl dropped the muzzle of her rifle and shook her head. The curving
ball came within Dakota Joe's reach.

"Some baseball player, I'll say!" ejaculated Jennie Stone slangily.

For the owner of the show caught the flying ball. He wheeled his
spirited horse, and, holding the ball at arm's length, he spurred down
the field toward the Indian girl.

"Oh!" cried Ruth under her breath. "He is going to throw it at her!"

"The villain!" ejaculated Mercy Curtis, her eyes flashing.