Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 242 — page 3: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

register. Come ahead, my jolly riflemen, and draw for places!” In response to this the marksmen crowded around the - age who had improvised a table out of his bat, and was busily engaged a down their names. ‘‘How, now, my boy?” asked the lazy gentle- ore his triend, ‘‘are you going to take r ‘Not much. But I back down before no bragging bully. Ill challenge the fellow to a private match after this is over,” CHAPTER II. THE SHOT FOR THE MAIN PRIZE. Ir was with no friendly look that Bill Bounce aw the city-bred youth, who had been bold enough to challenge him to a trial of skill with rifles. He had no thought of being beaten, et there was an ease and self-possession about he young fellow which he did not relish, and he hated him on principle, as he hated all who opposed him, ho were these chaps, and what had brought them to this out-of-the-way corner of Virginia? he asked himself. The mountaineers usually had this region to themselves. They were little troubled by strangers, and particularly by such fancily-dressed individuals as these. Were they only summer birds of fashion, or had they other business in this rural region? The bully looked at them with a surly aspect. One who knew him well might have judged that he was not quite at ease. He had reasons of his own to distrust strangers. His life record was not a very clean one, ‘Dunno what brings them city dandies out yere,” he growled to a companion. ‘‘ And then, jist to think of the imperdence of the half- weaned baby, to come sproutin’ ’round Bill Bounce! Wonder if he thinks I’m fed on skim- milk?” ‘** Are you goin’ to shoot with him, Bill?” ob laughed grimly, as he gazed at the youth. ‘Why you don’t s’pose he’ll stick, does you?” ** Looks as if he might.” ‘‘An’ de you ecalk’late the Alleghany war- hoss is goin’ to back down afore a counter- jumper like that? Ef he was goin’ ter shoot with yard-sticks stead of rifles, then you mought talk. Like to ring him in on a big bet, and then salt him, that’s all.” “Take care, Bill! Some of these city chaps are good shots,” ** Yes, with pop-guns,” laughed Bill, derisive- ly. ‘They kin hit a barn door, at twenty paces. But let one of them try fur an owl’s eye, on & swingin’ limb, a good hundred yards away, or summat of that sort. It’s the dog one imperdence of the fool as gits me. But, let him howl on, We'll see if he don’t git the starch took outer him.” - They must be some of Mr. Smike’s city friends,” suggested the other. ‘* Who keers! I don’t like old Smike fur noth- in’. If he comes pokin’ his nose round my way Pll bu’st it, sure. And I don’t like none of his puppies no more nor I do him.” _ While this conversation was going on the two city gentlemen, in another part of the field, were conversing with young Hardy. There was a look of settled gloom on the face of the youth, and he seemed inclined to shrink from the strangers, as if he was in no mood fer talking. “ How came you to let that rear, wee you?” asked the younger of the two citizens. ‘ Mr. Smike says you are the best shot on the »” ground. “T ain’t quite in trim to-day,” was the brief answer. _, Are you in for the big prize?” Pve got to win it, or—” ne turned away without completing his sen- nce, ‘¢Or what?” ‘No matter,” a little angrily. ‘1 don’t see that you gentlemen have usiness to mix any into our mountain troubles,” _ We don’t mean to offend you,” answered Bart. ‘‘My friend here, Mr.’ Frank Frazer, is the last person to hurt the feclings of any man, You are toe sensitive, my lad. “T can’t help it,” replied the youth, rubbing away the tears that involuntarily sp to his eyes. “My father—my dear Aerts just died! My mother and my little h, sirs, they are im such trouble! And only a boy like me te look after them!” ‘You need the prize they are going to shoot for now?” ‘‘ Tf I don’t win it we will be sold out of house and heme,” with a bitter laugh. The Two ‘Bloods.’ Young Hardy leaned upon his rifle, with his eyes fixed upon the ground, He could say no more. ‘‘It isa bad business, my dear fellow,” said Mr. Frazer, feelingly. “ But you won’t win it; so don’t build on that.” ‘‘How the deuce do you know he won't, Frank?” cried Bart, while an angry flash came from Hardy’s eyes. ‘* Because he has lost his nerve, Get angry, my boy. Desperate. Anything but down- hearted. No man who isin the blues can make a true shot.” ‘‘l can try, anyhow,” answered Hardy, quietly but resolutely, as he walked awa ‘“What the blazes ails you, Frank?” Bart angrily exclaimed. ‘*Do you want to take all the spirit out of the lad?” ‘*T want to put some in him,” answered Frank. ‘If I could make him a little spiteful it might bring out what pith there is in him. No man without a strong nerve can hit that center.” He pointed to the red spot in the center of the target. ‘*'You brag on your a Why don’t you put infor it yourself, and give it to the poor devil if you win?’ ‘Come, Bart, no chaff, You think I haveno chance?” ‘About as much asa cat has of crawling through a knot-hole.” ‘* Don’t take too much stock on that margin,” was Frank’s quiet answer. ‘' Anyhow, this is the mountain men’s match. I won’t meddle, But 1 will shoot with that big bully, no matter what comes of it.” ‘* You will be laughed at for your pains.” ** Did you ever see me pull trigger, Bart?” ‘' No. Can’t say as I did.” ‘ ‘Then don’t crow too loud, that’sall. That fellow may win my cap, but he won’t take its feather. If I had my own piece here I would engage to beat him. I will try him, anyhow, Use Hardy’s rifle, I rather like the look of it. Bart laughed incredulously as they walked toward the shooting stand. The crack of rifles had nares commenced, Fully fifty riflemen had entered for the match. The most of them, it is true, had no expectation of winning. But they had all done good work’ in the mountain forests, and each was willing to Fit up his stake for a chance shot. wind had risen since the previous match, and blew transversely to the line of shot. It was rather irregular, and it was not easy to tell just how much allowance to make for it. But to men used to taking snap shots in all sorts of weather this did not matter much. Each hoped that the wind might favor him. A three hundred yards shot, without rest, with a cross wind, and a small target, is a severe test to ordinary riflemen. It isnot to be wondered that many shots missed the target altogether, and were buried in the tree, while other’s struck the outer edges of the narrow d. But two or three nearer shots were made, the nearest being about two inches from the center. The lucky owner of this shot eyed it with great complacency. ‘*Tt’s not so bad,” he averred, ‘‘I won’t sell my share in the pool for less than a cool hun- dred.” “You'd best take twenty, if any fellow is cS. enough to offer. For I’m goin’ to plant a ullet inside yours.” The speaker was the stalwart, oldish man who had so quickly settled Bill Bounce a short time before. He was an old mountaineer, and had been noted as a prime shot. But he had lost some of his youthful nerve. The rifle was brought to his eye and aimed with t care. ; **Old Tom isn’t the man he used to be,” whis- pered a bystander. ‘‘ He used to shoot on sight.” The quick ears of the old man caught this whisper. He turned sharply round and fixed his keen eyes On the speaker. : ‘So you think Old Tom’s lost his nerve, eh?” ‘Pll wager you a cow I would bring down that bird if it was soaring two hundred yards overhead. Here’s a snap for you.” He turned, glanced his eye like lightning along the rifle barrel, and pulled the trigger. “Pll bet you it’s the best shot in the d, afore there’s a call,” he offered. But no one was inclined to take the offered bet. They knew what Old Tom Turnstile was equal to when he was r’iled. ‘¢ A scant inch and a half from the center,’’ cried the marker. ‘*‘ And a hard shot to beat.” “That's so; with this wind,” said the old ‘ 3 man, calmly. ‘I'd engage to plug the bull’s- eye if it was still weather.” The shooting continued, with varied fortune. Some forty shots had been made before the name of Bill Bounce was called. He responded with a wild whoop as he sprung forward, ‘“Yere’s yer rhinoceros in an alligator’s hide!” he roared. ‘' Yere’s the ring-tailed tur- key-buzzard that’s a-goin’ to rake down that stake! Make tracks, folks, and let roarin’ Bill Bounce up to the winnin’-post.” ‘*Dry up!” cried Old Tom, in disgust. ‘ Less gas and more powder would go down better with us boys.” “Ye s’pose I’m braggin,” answered Bill, somewhat quieted by this reproof. ‘* We'll see, old hoss. Bill Bounce ain’t that sort.” That be was a first-class shot they all knew and those whose names were yet to be called waited with some anxiety for his effort. The loud-mouthed marksman wasted little time in preparation. The rifle came quickly to his eye, and its sharp report came almost as guickly, The wind had lulled at the moment, which gave him a special advantage, ‘‘There’s yer buill’s-eye,” he cried, ‘Old Betsy never wastes no bullets.” It proved to be so. The bullet had pierced the eof the red circle, at less than an inch from the dead-center of the target. _ , ‘* It'll take a hundred and ninety-nine dollars and nirety-nine cents to buy that shobt,”, he boastingly exclaimed, as he left the stand. ‘‘There’s a chance for anybody as wants te make a cent.” These odds were rather too great for any one to care to take up, and the shooting {proceeded Bill Bounce looking on with a stare of insolent triumph. Young Hardy was one of the last ef the marksmen. His face was full of a gloomy de- ope as he walked up to the shooting stand. ‘Ther’ ain’t no use, Hardy,” cried the insolent bully. ‘‘ Ye know the bit of free-gratis advice I guv ye a while ago.” he youth’s lip curled as he gazed sternly at the speaker. He seemed on the point of writen gs J but checked himself, and gave his attention te the target. His young face looked haggard and careworn, but his eye was steady and his frame firm as he faced the small, distant object. Mr. Smike and his two city friends pressed close up. They were greatly Interested in the fortune of the present marksman, Hardy took a long and steady aim, his eye keenly ranging the sights. At length his finger ressed the trigger. A sharp report came from is short-barreled rifle. | There had been a lull in the wind at the mo- ment of bis taking aim. But the next instant a gust of wind swept by. The boy flung the reech of his rifle spitefully to the groumd, He turned away with a sullen countenance, ‘‘ It’s all up,” he said, to Mr. Smike, “If Pd only shot two seconds sooner! That gust has settled it, Fortune is dead against me, ‘‘ A miss,” cried the marker. ‘“ But it is a good shot. It’s on a line with Old Tom’s.” ‘¢ And the fellow as can line Old Tom ain’t no slouch,” remarked that individual. | ‘‘ A miss is as good as a mile,” eves aie ily rejoined. ‘‘It’s all up,” he said to elf, ‘The house is gone to the dogs, and my mother oe the little ones are homeless. It’s mighty hard, ‘ There were tears in the youth’s eyes as he left the circle, most of whom were in sympathy with him. | A hand tapped him on the shoulder, as he was moving with depressed head, along the path that led to the neighboring village. The downcast youth turned, with a look of surly anger, but his face brightened on seeing who had touched him. It was the city gentle- man, Frank Frazer. * Come, come, a rag ” exied the latter cheerily. ‘‘ Keep spirits, m 0S fellow. Trouble can’t last forever, “4 t is best to face it down at once,” ‘‘That’s not so easy, sir.” . “Try, and you'll find it is not so hard. I want to borrow your rifle, Hardy. I have a match with that roaring ruffler, Bill Bounce.” “ You?” in great surprise, 6s Yes.” * But _ will have no chance with him,” ¥ ze nag be so sure of that. Can I have the e “Of course you can; and my good wishes with it.” At this moment the last rifle cracked. The match was ended. ; | / IJOOKS com (E (E(o)