wn at
Slosson's.

Murrell, with all his hardihood, realized that a too great confidence
had placed him in an awkward position, for Betty turned her back on him
and began an animated conversation with Carrington and Charley Norton;
only Hannibal and the judge continued to regard him; the boy with a
frightened, fascinated stare, the judge with a wide sweet smile.

Hicks, the Belle Plain overseer, pushed his way to Murrell's side.

"Here, John Murrell, ain't you going to show us a trick or two?" he
inquired.

Murrell turned quickly with a sense of relief.

"If you can spare me your rifle," he said, but his face wore a
bleak look. Glancing at Betty, he took up his station with the other
contestants, whereupon two or three young planters silently withdrew
from the firing-line.

"Don't you think you've seen about enough, Bet?" demanded Tom. "You
don't care for the shooting, do you?"

"That's the very thing I do care for; I think I'd rather see that
than the horse-racing," said Betty perversely. This had been her first
appearance in public since her home-coming, and she felt that it had
been most satisfactory. She had met everybody she had ever known, and
scores of new people; her progress had been quite triumphal in spite
of Tom, and in spite of Charley Norton, who was plainly not anxious to
share her with any one, his devotion being rather of the monopolizing
sort.

Betty now seated herself in the carriage, with Hannibal beside her,
quietly determined to miss nothing. The judge, feeling that he had come
into his own, leaned elegantly against the wheel, and explained the
merits of each shot as it was made.

"Our intruding friend, the Captain, ma'am, is certainly a master with
his weapon," he observed.

Betty was already aware of this. She turned to Norton.

"Charley, I can't bear to have him win!"

"I am afraid he will, for anything I can do, Betty," said Norton.

"Mr. Carrington, can't you shoot?--do take Hannibal's rifle and beat
him," she coaxed.

"Don't be too sure that I can!" said Carrington, laughing.

"But I know you can!" urged Betty.

"I hope you gentlemen are not going to let me walk off with the prize?"
said Murrell, approaching the group about the carriage.

"Mr. Norton, I am told you are clever with the rifle."

"I am not shooting to-day," responded Norton haughtily.

Murrell stalked back to the line.

"At forty paces I'd risk it myself, ma'am," said the judge. "But at a
hundred, offha