are not the guns loaded?"

"No. Father never lets a loaded gun come into the house. Aunt Sally
won't either. Shall I load your gun for you?"

"Load my gun! Well, I guess not. As if I couldn't load my own gun!"

Charley set himself to work at once, for the movements of old Nap were
getting more and more eager and rapid, and there was no telling what
might happen.

But Charley had never loaded a gun before in all his life. Still, it was
a very simple piece of business, and he knew all about it. He had read
of it and heard it talked of ever so many times, and there was Jim
loading his own gun within ten feet, just as if he meant to show how it
should be done. He could imitate Jim, at all events; and so he thought
he did, to the smallest item; and he hurried to get through as quickly,
for it would not do to be beaten by a country boy. And then, too, there
was old Napoleon Bonaparte--that is to say Nap--beginning to yelp like
mad.

They were just on the edge of the swamp, and it was, as Jim said, "a
great place for rabbits."

"He's after one! There he comes!"

"Where? Where? I see him! Oh, what a big one!"

Bang!

Charley had been gazing, open-mouthed, at the rapid leaps of that
frightened white rabbit, and wondering if he would ever sit down long
enough to be shot at, with that dog less than half a dozen rods behind
him.

He was in a tremendous hurry, that rabbit, and he would hardly have
"taken a seat" if one had been offered him; but he was down now, for Jim
had not only fired at him--he had hit him.

"One for me. I meant to let you have the first shot. Never mind; you
take the next one. Keep your eyes out. He may be along before I'm
loaded."

Old Nap's interest in a rabbit seemed to cease the moment it was killed,
for he was now ranging the bushes at quite a distance.

"Here comes one. Quick, Charley! He's stopped to listen for the dog."

So he had, like a very unwise rabbit, and was perking up his long ears
within quite easy range of Charley's gun as he levelled it.

"Cock it! cock it!" shouted Jim. "Cock your gun!"

"Oh, I forgot that."

But he knew how; and when he once more lifted his gun, and pulled the
triggers, one after the other, they came down handsomely.

"Only snapped your caps?" said Jim. "I never knew that gun to miss fire
before. He's gone."

The rabbit had taken a hint from the bursting of the caps, and was now
running a race with Napoleon Bonaparte across the swamp.

Charley l