This was just to Billy’s taste, and he went at once home and spent a couple of days preparing for the work before him, and from which his mother and sisters tried to dissuade him; but the boy saw in it a bonanza and would not give it up.

His own pony, Rascal, he knew, was not fast enough for the work ahead, so he determined to get a better mount, and rode over to the fort to see a sergeant who had an animal not equaled for speed on the plains.

Rascal, some sixty dollars, a rifle, and some well-tanned skins were offered for the sergeant’s horse and refused, and in despair Billy knew not what to do, for he had gotten to the end of his personal fortune.

“Sergeant,” he suddenly cried, as a bright idea seized him.

“Well, Billy?”

“They say you are the crack shot in the fort.”

“I am too, Billy.”

“Well, I’ll tell you what I’ll do to win your horse, Little Grey.  I’ll put up all I have offered you against your animal and shoot for them.”

“Why, Billy, I don’t want to win your pony and money.”

“And I don’t want you to; but I’ll shoot with you for your horse against mine and all else I have offered.”

The sergeant was a grasping man, and confident of his powers, at last assented, and the match was to take place at once.

But the officers learning of it were determined Billy should have fair play, and a day was set a week off, and the boy was told to practice regularly with both pistol and rifle, for the terms were ten off-hand shots with the latter at fifty and one hundred yards, and six shots standing with the revolver at fifteen paces and six from horseback, and riding at full speed by the target.

Billy at once set to work to practice, though he had confidence in his unerring aim, and upon the day of trial came to the fort with a smiling face.

Nearly everybody in the fort went out to see the match, and the sergeant was called first to toe the mark.

He raised his rifle and his five shots at fifty yards were quickly fired.

Billy gave a low whistle, but toed the scratch promptly, and his five shots were truer than the sergeant’s, and a wild cheer broke from one and all.

At one hundred yards the sergeant’s shooting was better than the boy’s; and so it was with the pistol shooting, for when standing the sergeant’s shots were best, and in riding full speed by the target, Billy’s were the truest, and it was called a tie.

“How shall we shoot it off, Billy?” asked the sergeant, who seemed somewhat nervous.

Billy made no reply, but went to his haversack and took from it an apple, and going up to his pony placed him in position, the rein over the horn of the saddle.

The apple he then put on the head of the pony, directly between his ears, and stepping back while all present closely watched him, he threw forward his pistol and fired.

The apple flew into fragments and a wild burst of applause came from all sides, while Billy said quietly: