Part 12 (2/2)
There was no strut left in him as he rose to his feet, rather slowly, and faced his laughing audience; but he rallied after a moment and good-naturedly joined in the laugh against himself.
However, discipline was over for that lesson. Without regard to any rules the youngsters rushed to the stack and took whatever gun was fancied. Then began an indiscriminate firing till Mrs. Ford grew frightened and implored them to stop. They did so, all but Alfaretta and Molly, who had both been fascinated by the sport and felt sure that they could hit the bull's-eye--which n.o.body else had done.
”Come on, Alfy! Let's get down on our tummy, same's all marksmen do, let's!”
Down they flung themselves and now, as eager for their success as they were, old Lem handed each a fresh rifle and sang out:
”Let her go! A silver dollar to the gal that wins!”
They fired--and the unexpected happened. Alfaretta's untaught hands succeeded where greater skill had failed. Her bullet went straight into the bull's-eye, into its very centre.
”By the Great Horned Spoon! What an eye you've got, child of mortality!
Why I couldn't ha' done better myself! Glory be!” shouted the excited ranchman, fairly dancing in his pride and glee. Then he helped Alfy up from the ground, where she still lay, wondering at the excitement about her, and peered critically into her blue orbs.
”However could you see it? That fur away?”
”Why--why, I didn't see it at all. I got scared and shut my eyes when I pulled that thing on it!”
Captain Lem staggered as if he had been hit instead of the target and softly marvelled:
”Such--dum--luck! She done it--with her eyes--shut!
She--done--it--with--her--eyes--shut! Somebody take me out and lay me down. I'm beat.”
His ludicrous manner amused the others but frightened the too successful Alfaretta. Also, her attention was claimed by Molly's expression. That ambitious young person was looking very white about the lips, and was clasping and unclasping her hands in evident distress.
”Molly, what's the matter?” cried Alfy, shaking her partner in the affair.
Molly lifted one shaking finger and pointed into the distance:
”I--I hit something, too!”
Other eyes than Alfy's followed the pointing finger and a groan of horror burst from more than one throat.
Indeed, and all too surely, Molly had ”hit something, too!”
CHAPTER VIII
A CONCERT IN THE MOONLIGHT
Night fell on San Leon; and the searching party which had gone out in the morning, sure of prompt success, returned tired and dispirited. But their places were immediately taken by fresh recruits, Mr. Ford announcing that the matter would not be dropped, night or day, until all hope had to be given up.
Except that Jim's clothes had been left in his room it might have seemed that the lad had run away, feeling himself out of place at San Leon. But the folded garments placed on the chair beside his empty bed told a different tale.
”No, he has wandered off unknowing what he did. Well, when he comes back he shall find his place ready for him and the warmest of welcomes waiting. While we have tried--and will still--to visit every cabin and ranch within reasonable reach, there are many such little shacks dropped here and there among the mountains; and we have probably overlooked the one in which he is sheltered. Open hospitality is a feature of the west.
Anybody who comes across the boy will be good to him. Now, let's have a little music and then to bed. A whole day in the saddle tires me, though I'm bound to get used to it yet, and so shall all of you. Come, Erminie, give me a song; and Dorothy dear, get out your violin.”
<script>