Couldn't hit a skull as big as the head of a barrel a
hundred feet away."
"Didn't miss, neither," said Bud, in a tone of mock anger. "There's
where you're fooled. That is what I call a good shot. See that left eye
hole? Well, I aimed at that, and the bullet went through it. Ha! That's
where the joke is on you." He grinned, and winked at Stella.
A few minutes later Dick shot and missed the skull.
"Yah!" shouted Bud. "Goody! You missed. You shoot like a hayseed.
Couldn't hit a skull as big as the head of a barrel."
"That's where you're left," said the boy. "See that right eye hole?
That's what I aimed at."
The laugh was on Bud.
"All right, kiddie," he laughed. "You're on. We'd be in a dickens of a
fix if that ole cow hadn't left two eye holes when she died."
So it was that Dick had made great progress in the rudiments of a
cow-puncher's life, and it exactly suited him, but, in the meanwhile,
Stella was teaching him to read, and telling him the story of the rise
and grandeur of his own country, and of the lands that lay beyond the
seas.
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