into the
box next him. A cloud of white powder smoke drifted down over the
group. Bobby snuffed it eagerly. He thought it the most delicious smell
in the world; and so continued to think it for many years until the
nitros displaced the old-fashioned compounds. Four times Mr. Newmark
repeated his initial performance; then stepped aside.

"Heinzman to shoot; Wellman on deck!" announced the scorer.

Mr. Heinzman was already at the mark; and young Wellman arose and began
to break open a box of shells. Mr. Newmark thrust his gun barrels into
one of the pails and with the hickory wiper pumped the water up and
down.

"He's a good snap-shot," Bobby heard a man tell a stranger, in a
half-voice.

"Has a brilliant style," commented the other.

They fell into a low-toned conversation on the partridge season, and the
ducks, to which Bobby listened with all his ears, the while his eyes
missed nothing of what took place before him. Nobody now spoke aloud.
The chaffing had ceased. Shooter's etiquette prohibited anything that
even by remote possibility might "rattle" the contestants. Only the
voices of the men at mark and the referee were heard, and the heavy
_bang_ of the black powder. Bobby liked to listen to the referee.
Reporting, as he did, hundreds of results in the course of the
afternoon, his intonation became mechanical.

"Dead!" he snapped in the crispest, shortest syllable, when the glass
ball was broken by the charge.

"Law-s-s-t!" he drawled when the little sphere sailed away unharmed.

Each shooter on finishing his first string of five, swabbed out his gun,
leaned it against the rack, and went to squat in the group where he
commented to his friends on his own or others' luck, but always quietly.
An air of the strictest business held the entire assembly.

This broke slightly when Mr. Kincaid's name was called. A stir went
through the crowd; and some one called out,

"Go it, Old Reliable. Have you had any hoops put around her lately?"

Mr. Kincaid grinned good-naturedly, but made no reply. He had discarded
his coat; and now wore a brown cardigan jacket. He took his place with
the greatest deliberation, consuming twice as much time as any one else.

"Ready," said he.

"Ready," replied the trapper mechanically.

"Pool!" cried Mr. Kincaid.

The discharge delayed so long that Bobby looked to see if a misfire had
occurred; but when the ball reached the exact top of its swing, Mr.
Kincaid broke it.

"One of th