Excerpt
CHAPTER I DAVE AND HIS CHUMS
"Why, Dave, what are you going to do with that revolver?"
"Phil and Roger and I are going to do some 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....