Eh--what--damn the dog, he's scored another center shot!" "It would be hard to beat that--" they heard Murrell say.
"At least it would be quite possible to equal it," said Carrington, advancing with Hannibal's rifle in his hands.

It was tossed to his shoulder, and poured out its contents in a bright stream of flame.

There was a moment of silence.
"Center shot, ma'am!" cried the judge.
"I'll add twenty dollars to the purse!" Norton addressed himself to Carrington.

"And I shall hope, sir, to see it go in to your pocket." "Our sentiments exactly, ma'am, are they not ?" said the judge.
"Perhaps you'd like to bet a little of your money ?" remarked Murrell.
"I'm ready to do that too, sir," responded Norton quietly.
"Five hundred dollars, then, that this gentleman in whose success you take so great an interest, can neither equal nor better my next shot!" Murrell had produced a roll of bills as he spoke.

Norton colored with embarrassment.