he card. When he got up, Batley
looked reassured and proceeded to make a neat pattern around the center
of another card. There was no doubt that Crestwick was anxious, and when
he took his turn he shot badly. In the meanwhile, the rest of the party
on the lawn had gradually gathered round; the eager attitude of the
original spectators hinted that something out of the usual course was
going on.

Lisle was very cool when he lay down again. A swift, encouraging glance
from Bella Crestwick made him determined, and during his previous six
shots he had, he thought, learned the right tension on the trigger.

"Wipe it out for me, somebody," he said, holding up the rifle.

Bella seized it and deftly used the rod, regardless of soiled fingers.

"May it bring you luck," she wished, with a defiant glance at Batley, who
smiled at her as she returned the weapon.

Then there was a hush of expectancy. Lisle took his time; a sharp crack,
a streak of smoke, and Gladwyne raising his glasses, laughed.

"High!" he called. "Top spot!"

It was a three of hearts, and Gladwyne's smile lingered for a moment
after Lisle fired again.

"Bottom now; you're low!" he cried, and then his expression slightly
changed. Both spots were drilled out--this did not look altogether like
an accident.

"Center!" he announced after another shot, and all the faces surrounding
him became intent. The three hearts were neatly punched.

"A fresh card!" exclaimed Crestwick, looking around at Batley with an
exultant sparkle in his eyes. "You offered to let me off. Shall I return
the compliment?"

The man laughed carelessly, though Lisle thought it cost him an effort.

"No," he retorted; "I can't show myself less of a sportsman than you are;
but I think I've the option of demanding a longer range. Move the mat
back twenty-five yards and put up an ace of spades; it's the plainest.
Three shots each should suffice at the distance."

Crestwick got down and thrice touched the outside of the card; Batley did
better, for two shots broke the edge of the black and one was close above
them. It was good shooting at so small a mark, and Lisle was a little
anxious as he very deliberately stretched himself out on the mat. Having
little of the gambler's instinct in his nature, he was reluctant to lose
the money at stake, but he was more unwilling to let Batley fleece the
lad whom, as he recognized now, he had been asked to aid. He meant to do
so, if the thing were possibl