Peter, whatever his prejudices, was true to his ideals.
"It's a bargain, Tony. Ye beat me shootin' and I 'll call ye any bloomin' thing ye please—providin' I can twist me tongue to it."
Vittorio's eyes sought Patrick's. He removed the pipe from his mouth and grunted.
"All-a right!" said Vittorio. "We shoot-a free time. First me, den you, den you, den me again, like dat."
Without more ado he threw the gun to his shoulder, and, scarcely seeming to sight, fired, and snapped out the empty cartridge. As the smoke cleared the three strained forward in open-mouthed astonishment. He had hit the target squarely in the centre.
"By gum! he's done it!" Peter gasped; then, after an astonished silence, "Nothin' but luck—he can't do it again. Gi' me the gun."
Peter's surprise had not steadied his nerves; his shot went far astray, and he silently passed the rifle to Patrick. Patrick laid down his pipe,
