Immediately after dinner there was an exhibition of trick and fancy
shooting, in which Frank resolved to take part.
Rodney had provided a trap and plenty of glass balls for the occasion,
and it was said that Indian Charlie was certain to carry off the honors
of the day, as he was a wonderful shot with rifle, revolver or shotgun.
Charlie had a splendid black horse, and he started the shoot off by
shooting from horseback, breaking a dozen balls in rapid succession
without a miss, while the horse was at full gallop.
The watching cowboys uttered a yell of applause.
"Certainly that fellow is a peach with a shooting iron," nodded Frank
Merriwell. "There are not many who can beat that sort of work."
Hank Kildare followed Indian Charlie, but he rang the bell only three
times out of the six shots.
Pecos Pete, mounted on a wiry little broncho, went scooting across the
grassy plain, flung his hat into the air, and shot six holes through it
before it could touch the ground.
Then Indian Charlie showed the spectators another trick. As he rode
along a revolver in his right hand, he snapped six quarters into the air
with the thumb of his left hand and knocked each one out of sight with a
bullet as it spun above his head.
This brought another yell of applause from the watching cowboys, and
Frank began to understand how it came about that Charlie had been
regarded with no small amount of respect by those who knew him best.
"A fellow with a hot temper and the ability to shoot like that is
dangerous," thought Merriwell. "I can see how it is that no one cared to
anger him. It was lucky for me that he did not get out a gun when we had
that little trouble."
With a revolver in either hand, and hanging head downward on the right
side of his horse, clinging there face outward in some marvelous manner,
one of the cowboys tore past the target, at which he sent a dozen
bullets, shooting with one revolver and then with the other.
This was most remarkable as an exhibition of horsemanship, for he did
not succeed in ringing the bell once, although nearly every bullet hit
the target.
"Wait till they come down to straight shooting," said Frank. "Then I
will get into the game."
One after another, the cowboys gave an exhibition of some sort of trick
shooting; but it was noticeable that, although several of them were
fully more skillful as horsemen, none could make such a record as Indian
Charlie for hitting whatever he fired at.
Frank watched his style of shooting with no small amount of interest,
and saw him break ball after ball till he had smashed fifty-one. On the
fifty-second ball he missed, but Merry saw he did so from pure
carelessness.
"There is no telling when he would stop if he felt he was on his
mettle," thought Frank.
A bow-legged chap from the Star and Bar Ranch made thirty-two straight,
and created no small amount of excitement.
The fifth man made twenty-four and then failed.
Frank was next and last.
If he did not beat the Star and Bar man he could not get into the "shoot
off."
"Now, Frankie, me b'y," said Barney Mulloy, anxiously, "show th'
punchers what ye're made av."
Frank nodded quietly and took his position.