Hit's jest as well ye didn't hit him," said the old woman. 'Hit air
five dollars fine to kill a buzzard around hyeh. I'd never thought
that little thing could shoot."
"It shoots several times," said Clayton. "Hit does whut?"
Like a pistol," he explained, and, rising, he directed several shots
in quick succession at a dead tree in the ploughed field. At each
shot a puff of dust came almost from the same spot.
When he turned, Easter had risen to her feet in astonishment, and
the mother was laughing long and loudly.
"Don't ye wish ye had a gun like that, Easter? " she cried.
Clayton turned quickly to the girl, and began explaining the
mechanism of the gun to her, without appearing to notice her
embarrassment, for she shrank perceptibly when he spoke to her.
"Won't you let me see your gun? " he asked.
She brought out the old flint-lock, and handed it to him almost
timidly.