This made all the lads laugh, and Roger and Phil called on Dave to show his skill.
"I don't think this revolver works very well," said the senator's son, handing the weapon to Dave. "The trigger seems to catch in some way."
"Oh, don't blame the pistol for your poor shooting, Roger!" cried Phil, good-naturedly.
"Well, examine the pistol for yourself, Phil."
Dave took the weapon and snapped the trigger. There was no report, and he tried again, aiming at some brushwood not far from the apple tree. The brushwood was close to the back road.
"It's all right now, I guess," he said, as the pistol went off with ease. "But that trigger ought to be looked after," he added. "You wouldn't want it to miss fire at a critical moment."
He stepped forward and, while Roger swung the representation of a bear, he fired another shot.
"Good for you!" exclaimed the senator's son in admiration. "You took him right in the throat, Dave!"
"Hold up there! Stop that! Do you hear me, you young rascals! Do you want to kill me?"
The call came from the back road, and looking in that direction, the three boys saw a well-dressed man coming toward them on the run. He was carrying a whip, and his face was full of sudden passion.
