“Give it a half-hitch, Bess, and call it fixed,” said West, as he backed away from the girl to free himself from her delicious touch. Snatching his sombrero and starting for the door, he continued: “You and Mother be at the ferry within an hour. One of the men will saddle your horses for you. Good-bye.” Then hastily returning, as if he had forgotten an important item he called: “Oh say, Bess! How about your gun practice? Are you improving any?” “Do you know, Henry, that the last time I tried, I only had to hold one eye shut, and once I nearly hit the mark!” “Nearly—how nearly?” laughed West. “Remember, when you can shoot with both eyes open and hit the bull’s-eye three times in succession, then—then you are to have the 38 Smith and Wesson, you know.” With that he was gone to the gate, touched his foot in the stirrup, sprang with the agility of a cat into the saddle and started off quickly. Just then, however, Bess noticed that he had dropped his handkerchief, and saw the rider swing his horse quickly about, drop low over the side of the saddle, snatch the handkerchief from the ground, resume his position in the saddle and gallop on as though it were no feat at all. She cried out in her astonishment, so that Mrs. West came hurriedly in to learn the cause of her alarm. When Bess told her what she had just witnessed, Mrs. West smiled, and explained that at the July celebration she would have an opportunity to see some really wonderful feats in riding. “Henry told me just now that I must hurry to win the new gun he promised me,” said Bess, as she and Mrs. West hurried about, finishing the breakfast work. “Do you know,” continued the girl, “it seems to me I would be very conspicuous with a gun stuck into my belt. James and Henry both agree that if I insist upon going about alone with my horse, that I must have a gun.” “Yes, dear, one cannot tell what unexpected danger might arise. A drunken Indian, or an infuriated steer, or even a rattlesnake may molest one, and the boys are wise in insisting,” answered Mrs. West. At first, when Henry West brought out the 22 rifle to give Bess her first lesson, she ran behind a tree and thrust her fingers in her ears. After a little she would pull the trigger with both eyes shut tight, if he would hold the gun. At length she submitted to having it placed against her shoulder and to holding it unassisted. “Oh, Bess! Don’t be such a baby,” said her brother to her one day, as she was trying to overcome her aversion to shooting the 22. Instantly her eyes _looked daggers_ at the boys; snatching the gun, she thrust it up against her shoulder, pulled the trigger and banged away! When she opened her eyes she saw James peering from behind one tree and Henry from another. Both were smiling at her impetuosity, but James then and there told her that the first essential was to handle a weapon carefully.