"You shoot well, but a board stuck against a tree is no test for
a man's nerve," he said insolently.
Carrington was charging his piece.
"I only know of one other kind of target," he observed coolly.
"Yes--a living target!" cried Murrell.
The crowd opened from right to left. Betty's face grew white,
and uttering a smothered cry she started to descend from the
carriage, but the judge rested his hand on her arm.
"No, my dear young, lady, our friend is quite able to care for
himself."
Carrington shook the priming into the pan of Hannibal's ancient
weapon.
"I am ready for that, too," he said. There was a slow smile on
his lips, but his eyes, black and burning, looked the captain
through and through.
"Another time--" said Murrell, scowling.
"Any time," answered Carrington indifferently.
CHAPTER XVI
THE PORTAL OF HOPE
"This--" the speaker was judge Price; "this is the place for me:
They are a warm-hearted people, sir; a prosperous people, and a
patriotic people with an unstinted love of country. A people
full of rugged virtues engaged in carving a great state out of
the indulgent bosom of Nature. I like the size of their whisky
glasses; I like the stuff that goes into them; I despise a
section that separates its gallons into too many glasses. Show
me a community that does that, and I'll show you a community
rapidly tending toward a low scale of living. I'd like to hang
out my shingle here and practise law.
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