t so mum about it?"

Alec nodded toward the skin which was to be Spud Ely's. "It's the same
one," said he. "I've kept part of him ripening out in the storehouse
against this day," he explained.

When they could eat no more there was a general loosening of belts and
sighs of complete satisfaction into which Pat rudely broke with a demand
for dishwashers and wipers.

"Oh, can it!" grunted Hal. "When a fellow's in the seventh heaven what
do you try to bring him down to earth again for?"

But Pat was obdurate, and with many an exaggerated grunt and groan the
remains of the feast were cleared away, the dishes washed and the cabin
set to rights. Then followed a lazy hour before the rifle match. It was
agreed that Pat and Alec, both of whom were expert shots, should count
as a clean miss any shot not striking in the black, while the others
should be credited with whatever their actual scores were. Each was to
be allowed ten shots. The bull's-eye counted ten, the first ring outside
counted nine, the next ring eight, and so on. Each was allowed three
trial shots to get the range.

Hal was the first to take his trial shots. At the crack of the rifle
Upton ran forward to examine the target. "Never touched it! Didn't even
hit the board! Some shooter you are, Hal!" he yelled.

Hal flushed, but said nothing. For his second shot he took plenty of
time and was as careful as he knew how to be. The result was the same.
For his third shot he used a rest, which was contrary to the rules, but
was allowed, as this was only a trial shot. This time he nicked a
splinter from one edge of the board on which the target was fastened.

"Here, let me see that rifle," cried Pat, striding forward and snatching
the gun out of Hal's hands. He sighted it, then handed it back with a
grin. "Will ye tell me how iver ye got thot wan rabbit wid a gun the
loikes av thot?" he demanded.

"Why, what's the matter with the gun?" demanded Hal, reaching for it, a
puzzled scowl furrowing his brows.

Alec forestalled him and took the rifle from Pat's hands. He in turn
sighted along the barrel. "Laddie," said he, the soberness of his face
belied by the twinkle in his eyes, "do ye no ken that a gun is like a
fine lady? It must be treated wi' respect."

Hal took the gun with a puzzled look. "I don't quite get you fellows
yet," said he.

Pat laughed outright. "Look at your forward sight, man. You've hit the
end of your barrel against something and knocked that