s
from his pocket and carefully filling the chambers of the revolver.

"Why not?" answered Max, still with the same imperturbability. "What
shall it be? Name the sum."

"Let it be whatever you please," returned his polite adversary. "Since
we are loaded with English gold shall we say half a sovereign?"

"Half a sovereign will suit me admirably," the other replied. "Perhaps
you will commence?"

Nothing loath, Moreas toed the line, and, when he had examined the
revolver to make sure that it was in working order, fired. The bullet
hit the apple dividing it as neatly as if it had been cut with a knife.

"Bravo!" said Max. "I owe you half a sovereign."

The Spaniard handed him the revolver, and he, in his turn, took his
place at the line. As boys, Max and I had been keen pistol shots, and I
was quite prepared when I reached this part of his narrative to find
that he had imitated Moreas' example and destroyed the target. To my
surprise, however, he chronicled a miss.

"I owe you a sovereign," he said, handing the revolver to his adversary.

"You will come to it directly," the other replied patronisingly.

Once more Moreas toed the line and fired. He missed his mark, however,
by some inches. An oath in Spanish escaped his lips as he handed the
revolver to Max. The latter had recovered his presence of mind by this
time, and when he pulled the trigger the ball pierced the apple in the
centre.

"A good shot," said one of the men behind him, and Moreas, who, though
he deemed it a fluke, felt compelled to agree.

"We are equal now," said Max quietly.

Again Moreas fired, but this time he hit the apple on its side, causing
it to swing backwards and forwards like a pendulum. One cartridge still
remained in the revolver. Max waited until the target was ready, then
fired and again hit his mark. The shot was a good one, and this time
there was no question of chance about it. Moreas changed colour as far
as it was possible to do, and began to think that his exhibition was
scarcely likely to serve the purpose for which it was intended. Once
more the revolver was charged, and out of the six shots fired Max struck
the apple three times and Moreas twice. Whether it was the salutary
lesson he had received, or whether it was because, as he informed him
later, he had taken a great liking to Max, I cannot say; the fact
remains, however, that from that moment they agreed most amicably
together. That he was aware Max did not trust hi