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, whatever people might call it--and I doubt whether, accustomed as I am to fire instantly the moment I catch sight of a thing, that I could help hitting a man in the head. Now what I want to become accustomed to is to fire at the hand. I should never forgive myself if I killed a man. But if ever I did go out with a notorious duellist who forced the duel upon me, I should like to stop his shooting for the rest of his life. So I want to be able to hit his hand to a certainty. Of course the hand is an easy enough mark, and by getting accustomed to the height and the exact position it would be in, I should get to hit it without fail." "A very good idea, sir. The hand is not much of a mark when holding a pistol, still it is a good bit bigger than a penny piece, and you would soon get to hit it just as certainly." For the next three months Frank fired fifty shots a day--twenty-five with each hand--and at the end of that time could hit a penny thrown up by Woodall, eighteen times out of twenty. "That is good enough," he said; "now I shall only practise once a week, to keep my hand in." Frank had not been without an incentive to gain exceptional proficiency with a pistol. Although he got on very well with his comrades of his own depot, there was a captain of a lancer regiment who had not unfrequently taxed his patience to its farthest limit. The man was a noted duellist, and was known to be a dead shot. On the strength of this, he was in the habit of making remarks so offensive, that they would have at once been taken up, if uttered by anyone else in barracks. For the last two months he had made a special butt of a young cornet, who had recently joined the depot of the Dragoons. He was a pleasant lad, with plenty of spirit and pluck, but he had a slight impediment in his speech, although when giving the word of command he never hesitated. It was this defect that was the object of Captain Marshall's ill-natured remarks. The lad tried to laugh them off and to ignore the offensiveness of the tone, but he felt them deeply, and confided to Frank--to whom he had specially taken--that he could not stand it much longer. "I never used a pistol in my life until you advised me the other day to take some lessons from Woodall, and of course he would put a bullet through my head; but I can't help that. As it is, everyone must think me a coward for standing it, and at any rate I can show them that I am not that." "Don't you mind
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