"Fine!" exclaimed Bones, who had never seen Frank shoot before; "why, really, I'm ashamed to show my clumsiness before such a crack shot." "None of that, now. And don't believe I can do that sort of work right along. Next time it may be a clean double miss. Ducks are unreliable things. I've known the best of shots to miss, time and again. Ralph, step up and toe the mark. You're next on the docket," laughed Frank, as he hastily replaced the discharged shells with fresh ones. "Better retrieve your game while the balance of us keep a lookout. Otherwise we'll get things mixed, and perhaps lose some of it. Did you mark the places?" said the host of the little hunt. "Oh! yes, I always do that. It gets to be a habit with any fellow who hunts much. I think they fell dead, so I oughtn't to have much trouble," replied Frank. "Beware the oozy spots along the border of the marsh. I've had no end of trouble getting stuck instead of duck," called out Bones, as the other moved away, carrying his gun along with him as a wise hunter always does. Just as he retrieved the second victim to his accuracy he heard a single shot, and a heavy body fell not ten feet away. Ralph had dropped his first duck also. "There you are," remarked Frank, throwing the three birds down, as he returned to the rendezvous; "and they do certainly look fine and plump. Reckon you have quite a few muskrats in this old marsh of yours, Bones. I saw a lot of houses in the water, made of sticks and trash?" "I was told there were. Of course I've seen the little varmints at times, when I've been hiding in a duck-blind; but they never trouble me, and I don't go out of my way to interfere with them. Ah! there!" He threw up his gun, and a second later two shots rang out in rapid succession. Quite a bunch of teal had swung into the avenue, heading for the marsh. They were just everlastingly hurrying, as Ralph said, and while Bones succeeded in knocking down a couple, one only wounded, which he never did find, he declared he ought to be ashamed for not doing better. "Still, I like the feel of the gun all right. I'll do something worth while when I get used to the hang of it," he remarked, as he went off to look for his game. Then Frank had another chance. Sometimes the ducks were higher up; then again they came at such speed that it was next to impossible to make a hit. So the fun went on for three-quarters of an hour. It was actually getting dusk, and the flight seemed about over. Ralph had dropped a single duck, and gone off to try and find it, though Bones said he doubted whether he would succeed, because of the gathering gloom. About five minutes afterwards, as he and Frank were sitting there on the log, exchanging stories of former hunts, they heard Ralph calling. "Hello! what's the matter?" exclaimed Frank, starting up. "I don't know, but I can give a pretty good guess," remarked Bones; and then elevating his voice, he shouted: "What d'ye want, Ralph?"