Once I won a medal--think of that! So I brought my pet
revolver along, although I may never have need to use it."
Uncle John looked thoughtful.
"It doesn't seem like a girlish accomplishment, exactly," he mused.
"When I was young and went into the West, the times were a bit
unsettled, and I used to carry a popgun myself. But I never shot at a
human being in my life. There were women in the camps that could shoot,
too; but the safest place was always in front of them. If Beth has won a
medal, though, she might hit something."
"Don't try, Beth," said Louise; "you ought to make a hit without
shooting."
"Thank you, dear."
As they left their hotel for a walk they came upon Count Ferralti, who
was standing in the court calmly smoking a cigarette. His right hand was
still in a sling.
No one was greatly surprised at his appearance, but Uncle John uttered
an exclamation of impatience. It annoyed him that this fellow, whose
antecedents were decidedly cloudy, should be "chasing around" after one
of his nieces, Beth and Patsy smiled at each other significantly as the
young man was discovered, but Louise, with a slight blush, advanced to
greet Ferralti in her usual pleasant and cordial way.
There was no use resenting the intrusion. They owed a certain
consideration to this boyish Italian for his assistance on the Amalfi
road.
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