"Hello, Tony!" he called with unwonted affability as he paused to reload. "See that shot? Pretty near hit the bull's-eye. You don't know how to shoot—no? Eye-talians use knives. Americans use guns."
Vittorio smiled back, pleased at being so freely included in the conversation.
"I shoot-a more good dat. You no shoot-a straight; no hit middle." His tone was not boastful; he merely dropped the remark as an unimpassioned statement of fact.
Peter had raised the rifle to his shoulder; he lowered it again to stare.
"What are ye givin' us?" he demanded. "Ye think ye can shoot better'n me?"
Vittorio shrugged. He had no desire to hurt Peter's feelings, but at the same time he saw no occasion to lie.
"Course I shoot-a more good dat," he responded genially. "I shoot-a long time. You no learn how like-a me."
"Here," said Peter, stretching the rifle toward
