This was the regular _measure_ among them.

Little time was lost in firing, for these men did not "hang" on their aim.

The point of the rifle was slowly raised to the object, and the instant the sight covered it the ball sped to its mark.

In a few minutes the nail was encircled by bullet holes, scarcely two of which were more than an inch distant from the mark, and one--fired by Joe Blunt--entered the tree close beside it.
"Ah, Joe!" said the major, "I thought you would have carried off the prize." "So did not I, sir," returned Blunt, with a shake of his head.

"Had it a-bin a half-dollar at a hundred yards, I'd ha' done better, but I never _could_ hit the nail.