e, and twice he paused and relaxed his grip
when his sight grew slightly blurred.
Then there was a sharp crack, and he smiled when he heard Gladwyne's
report.
"I can't see it. These are only opera-glasses."
Dead silence followed the next shot, which left no visible mark on the
target; and Lisle did not look around as he thrust his last cartridge
into the rifle. He let it lie beside him for half a minute while he
opened and shut his right hand, and then, taking it up quickly, fired.
Still there was no blur on the white surface of the card and Gladwyne
sharply shut his glasses, while two of the onlookers ran toward the
target. They came back in silence and one significantly held up the ace.
There were three small holes in the black center.
Gladwyne had turned away when Lisle got up, but Batley concealed his
feelings very well.
"Excellent!" he exclaimed. "As I can't beat that, the only thing left me
is to pay up."
Lisle turned to Crestwick, who looked hot and excited.
"You made the bet," he said. "Will you use my half in buying a
competition cup for one of your clubs?"
He saw Batley's smile and a somewhat curious look in Gladwyne's face, but
the group broke up and he strolled back across the lawn with Bella.
"I'm grateful," she said softly. "I was a little afraid at first that I
was asking too much of you."
Lisle met her glance with a good assumption of surprise.
"Grateful? Because I indulged in a rather enjoyable match?"
She laughed.
"You learn rapidly. But I'd better say in excuse that I didn't think I'd
involved you in a very serious risk. He hasn't your eyes and hands--one
couldn't expect it. You don't need pick-me-ups in the morning, do you?"
Lisle was slightly embarrassed. This girl's knowledge of life was too
extensive, and he would have preferred that she should exhibit it to
somebody else.
"Well," she concluded as they approached the tea-table, "my thanks are
yours, even if you don't value them."
"What do you expect me to say?" he asked, regarding her with some
amusement and appreciation. She was alluringly pretty in her rather
elaborate light dress.
"Yes," she smiled mockingly, disregarding his question; "these things
become me better than the tweeds, don't they? They make one look nice and
soft and fluffy; but that's deceptive. You see, I can scratch; in fact, I
felt I could have scratched Batley badly if I'd got the chance. There's
another hint for you--make what you like
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