"You have a good chance." "All right, Colonel.

That's Betty's prize and somebody'll have to do some mighty tall shootin' to beat me," said the lad, his blue eyes flashing as he toed the mark.
Shouts and cheers of approval greeted his attempt.

The bullet had passed into the wood so close to the nail that a knife blade could not have been inserted between.
Miller's turn came next.

He was a fine marksman and he knew it.

With the confidence born of long experience and knowledge of his weapon, he took a careful though quick aim and fired.