wishin' for things you
can't get. Do you s'pose I'll ever do it again?" asked Alfaretta,
drawing one of Dorothy's arms about her own shoulder.

"Do what again, child?"

"Child, yourself. I mean fire right into the middle of the thing, and
'honest Injun', I did do it with my eyes shut. I wonder if that ain't
the rightest way to sharpshoot, anyway. The rest of you couldn't hit it
anywheres near, with your eyes open. What say?"

Molly yawned and stretched herself luxuriously, and Helena remarked:

"Molly, you make me think of a Persian kitten! She does just that when
she feels particularly good."

"Well, I ought to feel good. I didn't kill Wun Sing. I just made a hole
in his old purple blouse and I can give him another new one. If I can
find one like it, and have money enough, and--and other things. If I had
shot him instead of his clothes what would they have done to me? Would I
have been hung by the neck till you are dead and the Lord have mercy on
your soul? Would I?"

"Oh! Molly, how horrible and how wicked! That's swearing!" cried
indignant Dorothy.

"Well, I like that! I mean I don't! I never swore a swore in my life and
you're horrid, just horrid, Dorothy Calvert, to say so," retorted Molly,
suddenly sitting up and flashing a look of scorn at her beloved chum.

"It was really swearing, you know, though you didn't mean it."

"It's what the Judge says--my poor father's one--when a man is condemned
to death."

"Aunt Betty says that any taking of the Lord's name _in vain_ is
swearing and--"

Foreseeing a childish squabble, due to over-excitement and fatigue,
Helena gently interposed:

"That's enough. Neither of you knows what she is talking about. They
don't hang people nowadays, they electrocute them, and Wun Sing wasn't
hurt. He was only badly scared and will keep a good distance from our
rifle-range hereafter. Alfy did hit the bull's-eye, no matter whether
she meant to do it or not. We've had a perfectly lovely evening and a
perfectly lovely summer is before us. I mean to get up, to-morrow, and
see the sun rise, so--off with you, girls. Molly and I are sleepy. Good
night to both of you. What friends we shall be before this summer ends!"

"Why, I thought we was now. I'm sure I don't feel much above any of you,
even if I can shoot better 'n the rest," said practical Alfaretta,
moving slowly toward the door.

A shout of laughter greeted her words and Molly indignantly retorted:

"You aren't one bit s