lar shapes and rather light, did not carry well. Whatever the cause, the fact remained that the barrel received only a few scattering shots and these on the outer edges of the head.
"Now we'll see what Sister Davis can do!" exclaimed Nat Plerson, as Joe's chum stepped up to the firing line.
"Oh, I'm not so much," answered Tom with a half smile. "Joe will beat me all to pieces."
"Joe Matson sure can throw," commented Teeter, in a low voice to George Bland. "I remember what straight aim he had the last time we built a fort, and had a snow fight."
"I should say yes," agreed George. "And talk about speed!" he added. "Wow! One ball he threw soaked me in the ear. I can feel it yet!" and he rubbed the side of his head reflectively.
The first ball that Tom threw just clipped the upper rim of the barrel head, and there were some exclamations of admiration. The second one was a clean miss, but not by a large margin. The third missile split into fragments on the rim of the head.
"Good!" cried Peaches. "That's the way to do it!"
"Wait until you see Joe plug it," retorted Tom with a smile.
