Dave Porter at Star Ranch | Page 2

target shooting back of the
barn," answered Dave Porter. "If we are going to try ranch life, we
want to know how to shoot."
"Oh! Well, do be careful!" pleaded Laura Porter, as she glanced

affectionately at her brother. "A revolver is such a dangerous thing!"
"We know how to handle one. Phil has been painting a big door to
represent a black bear, and we are going to see if we can do as well
with a revolver as we did with the rifle."
"Do you expect to shoot bears on the ranch? I didn't see any when I was
out there."
"We don't expect to see them around the house, but there must be
plenty of game in the mountains."
"Oh, I presume that's true. But I shouldn't want to hunt bears--I'd be
afraid," and Laura gave a little shiver.
"Girls weren't meant to be hunters," answered Dave, laughing. "But I
shouldn't consider the outing complete unless I went on at least one big
hunt--and I know Phil and Roger feel the same way about it."
"Hello, Dave!" cried a voice from an open doorway, and a handsome
lad with dark curly hair showed himself. "Coming?"
"Yes, Roger. Where is Phil?"
"Gone to the field with his wooden bear." Roger Morr looked at his
chum's sister. "Want to come along and try your luck?" he questioned.
"A fine box of fudge to the one making the most bull's-eyes--I mean
bear's-eyes."
"No, indeed, I'd be afraid of my life even to touch a revolver,"
answered the girl. "But I'll hunt up Jessie, and maybe we'll come down
after a while to look on."
"Oh, you want to learn to shoot!" cried Roger. "Then, when we get to
Star Ranch, you can dress up in regular cowgirl fashion, and ride a
bronco, and fire off your gun in true western style."
"And have a big bear eat me up, eh?" answered Laura. "No, thank
you--I want to come back East alive. But I'll come down to the field as

soon as I can find Jessie," answered Laura, and walked away.
A long, melodious whistle was floating through the outside air, and
Dave and Roger knew it came from Phil Lawrence. They hurried from
the broad porch to the garden path, and around the corner of the
carriage shed. Here they came upon their chum, carrying on his
shoulder an old door upon which he had painted the upright figure of
what was supposed to be a bear.
"Hurrah for the great animal painter!" cried Dave, as he ran up and took
hold of one end of the door. "Phil, you ought to place this in the
Academy of Design."
"It's superb!" was Roger's dry comment. "Best picture of a kangaroo I
ever saw. Or is it a sheep, Phil?"
"Humph! It's a good deal better than you could have painted,"
grumbled the amateur artist.
"Sure it is--best photo of a tiger I ever saw," said Dave, adding to the
fun. "Why, you can almost hear him growl!"
"See here, if you're going to poke fun at me I'll throw the target away. I
put in two hours of hard work, and three cans of paint, and----"
"We won't say another word, Phil," interrupted Roger. "Here, let me
take hold. You've carried it far enough," and he relieved Phil of his
burden.
"I wonder where would be the best place to set it?" mused Dave, gazing
across the field.
"Up against the tree over there," answered Phil, pointing. "I had that
spot picked out when I painted it. We'll set it so that it will look as if his
bearship was trying to climb the tree."
"It's rather close to the back road," protested Dave. "We might hit
somebody."

"Oh, hardly anybody uses that road,--so the stableman told me,"
answered Roger. "Besides, we can watch out. One always wants to be
careful when shooting, at a target or otherwise."
The three youths soon had the target placed to their satisfaction, and
then began a lively blazing away with the three revolvers that had been
brought along. They aimed for the eyes of the painted creature, and for
other vital spots, and all did fairly well.
"You're the best shot, Dave," announced Roger, during a lull in the
practice, when all had gone to inspect the "damage" done. "You've
plugged him right in the eyes three times and once in the heart. Had he
been a real bear, he'd be as dead as a salt mackerel now."
"Provided he had consented to stand still," answered Dave. "Shooting
at a stationary object is one thing, and at a moving, living creature quite
another."
"I have it!" cried Phil. "Let us get a rope and throw it over one of the
tree limbs. Then we can tie