"No, but I want something to shoot at when Ned Newton comes over to-
night."

"Suffin t' shoot at? Why Massa Tom! Good land a' massy! Yo'-all
ain't gwine t' hab no duel, am yo'?"

"No, Rad, but I want a life-size figure on which to try my new
electric gun. Here are some old clothes, and if you will stuff them
with rags and straw and fix them so they'll stand up, they'll do
first-rate. Have it ready by night, and set it up at the far end of
the shooting gallery."

"All right, Massa Tom. I'll jest do dat, fo' yo'," and leaving the
colored man to stuff the figure, after he had showed him how, Tom
went back into the house to read the paper which he had purchased
that morning.

He skimmed over the news, thinking perhaps he might see something of
the going abroad of Andy Foger with the German aeroplane, but there
was nothing.

"I almost wish I was going to Europe," sighed Tom. "I will certainly
have to get busy at something, soon. I haven't had any adventure
since I won the prize at the Eagle Park aviaton meet in my sky
racer. Jove! That was some excitement! I'd like to do that over
again, only I shouldn't want to have Dad so sick," for just before
the race, Tom had saved his father's life by making a quick run in
the aeroplane, to bring a celebrated surgeon to the invalid's aid.