“They were already reduced” she flashed.  “The sport was in getting them the first time, not in butchering them afterward.”

Stevenson and Williams rubbed their chins and looked at each other.  As for me, I was looking at the girl; for it seemed to me that never in my life had I seen one so beautiful.

Her hair, reddish brown in the sunlight, was massed up by the binding veil, which she pushed back now from her face.  Her eyes, wide and dark, were as sad as they were angry.  Tears streamed from them down her cheek, which she did not dry.  Fearless, eager, she had, without thought, intruded where the average woman would not have ventured, and she stood now courageously intent only upon having the way of what she felt was right and justice.  There came to me as I looked at her a curious sense that I and all my friends were very insignificant creatures; and it was so, I think, in sooth, she held us.

“Captain Orme,” said I to my opponent, “you observe the actual Supreme Court of America!” He bowed to me, with a questioning raising of his eyebrows, as though he did not like to go on under the circumstances.

“I am unfortunate to lead by a bird,” said I, tentatively.  For some reason the sport had lost its zest to me.

“And I being the loser as it stands,” replied Orme, “do not see how I can beg off.”  Yet I thought him as little eager to go on as I myself.

“Miss Ellen,” said Judge Reeves, removing the hat from his white hair, “these gentlemen desire to be sportsmen as among themselves, but of course always gentlemen as regards the wish of ladies.  Certain financial considerations are involved, so that both feel a delicacy in regard to making any motion looking to the altering of the original conditions of this contract.  Under these circumstances, then, appeal is taken from this lower Court”—­and he bowed very low—­“to what my young friend very justly calls the Supreme Court of the United States.  Miss Ellen, it is for you to say whether we shall resume or discontinue.”

The girl bowed to Judge Reeves, and then swept a sudden hand toward Stevenson and Williams.  “Go home, all of you!” she said.

And so, in sooth, much shamefaced, we did go home, Judge of the Supreme Court, officers of the Army, and all, vaguely feeling we had been caught doing some ignoble thing.  For my part, although I hope mawkishness no more marks me than another, and although I made neither then nor at any time a resolution to discontinue sports of the field, I have never since then shot in a pigeon match, nor cared to see others do so, for it has never again seemed to me as actual sport.  I think the intuitive dictum of the Army girl was right.

“Now wasn’t that like Ellen!” exclaimed Kitty, when finally we found ourselves at her carriage—­“just like that girl.  Just wasn’t it like that girl!  To fly in the face of the Supreme Court of the State, and all the laws of sport as well!  Jack, I was keeping count,” she held out her ivory tablets.  “You’d have beaten him sure, and I wanted to see you do it.  You were one ahead, and would have made it better in the next twenty-five.  Oh, won’t I talk to that girl when I see her!”