THE SHOOTING CONTEST
It was decided that the shooting contest should take place the next day.
"It doesn't give us much time to practice," grumbled Fred.
"We might as well have it over with," answered Jack. "There is no use of
allowing it to interfere with our lessons or with the coming election for
officers."
"Do you think we can shoot as well as Brassy?"
"We can try, Fred. From all reports he's quite a wonderful shot. It seems
he comes from a place where everybody is used to firearms."
It had been decided to hold the contest on the regular range back of the
school grounds. Fred and Jack had been in favor of rifles, but the boy
from the West had voted in favor of pistols. As a consequence, Captain
Dale had told them the contest would be divided into two parts of a
possible fifteen points each, the first part to take place with pistols
and the second with rifles.
"Say, you fellows have just got to snow Brassy under!" cried Randy.
"Don't leave him a leg to stand on."
"That's easy enough to say, Randy," answered Jack. "But it isn't so easy
to do."
"I know it, and I was only fooling. However, do your best and make some
kind of showing against that loud-mouthed fellow."
Early on the morning of the contest Jack and Fred received permission to
take rifles and pistols and do a little practicing with the firearms.
They went out alone, not wishing to be disturbed by any one.
As they were crossing the fields they saw a figure coming from a side
road. The person approaching had the cape of his overcoat drawn up
tightly around his throat and wore his cap pulled down well over his
forehead.
"That fellow looked like Brassy Bangs," declared Fred, as the distant
figure leaped over a hedge and disappeared.
"It certainly did look like Brassy," answered his cousin. "But what in
the world could he be doing out so early in the morning?"
"Maybe he was practicing a little on his own account."
"He didn't have any gun with him."
"That's right. But he might have a pistol."
"He never struck me as a fellow who would get up so very early. He always
appeared to be rather lazy. And besides that, he didn't come from the
range. He came from the river road."
"I know it, Jack. Maybe he's been out all night for a good time with some
of those fellows from town."
After this the two Rovers lost no time in hurrying to the rifle range,
and there practised with their pistols and their rifles until it was time
to return to the Hall for roll call and the drill before breakfast.
"Well, we may not win, but we'll make some kind of a showing," remarked
Fred.
It was a clear day, the air just bracing enough to put the cadets of
Colby Hall in good spirits. When the time came for the contest nearly all
of them hurried to the range.
"Now then, Lest, show 'em what you can do!" cried Paul Halliday.
"The Rovers won't have a look-in!" broke out Billy Sands. "It will be a
regular walk-away for Lest."
"Don't be so sure of that," answered Gif.
"Brassy may be all right enough with a pistol; but don't forget that Jack
and Fred know how to handle a rifle," added Spouter.
A coin was tossed up and it was thereby decided that the contest with
pistols should take place first. Each contestant was to shoot three
times, the rings on the target counting from 1 to 5. The three
contestants were to shoot in rotation, Fred first, Brassy second, and
Jack last.
If Fred was a trifle nervous when he went to the front to shoot, he did
his best to control it. Taking as careful aim as possible, he fired.
"A three!"
"That's good enough for a starter!"
With a self-satisfied look on his face, Brassy Bangs strode forward, took
quick aim, and fired.
"A bull's-eye!" shouted Billy Sands in delight.
"I told you he could do it!" added Paul Halliday.
When Jack came to the front he managed to make a 4.
"That's the stuff!" cried Randy. "You're only one point behind!"
On the second round Fred managed to make a 4, while Jack scored a 3, thus
tying the Rovers. Brassy scored a 4.
"Seven to nine in favor of Bangs!"
Then came the third round, and again Fred scored a 3 and Jack did
likewise, while Brassy delighted his cronies by scoring another
bull's-eye.
"A total of ten each for the Rovers!"
"And fourteen for Bangs!"
"I told you Lest could hold 'em down!" shouted Billy Sands.
"Just wait till they shoot with the rifles. He'll walk away from 'em!"
added Paul Halliday.
It must be admitted that the Rovers and their chums were somewhat
disappointed that the score stood four points in favor of Brassy.
"Now, Fred, do your best," whispered Andy to his cousin, as the latter
went to the front after carefully examining the rifle handed to him by
Captain Dale.
The firearm was a light affair, but of approved pattern and supposed to
be quite accurate for use at a distance of two hundred yards.
Fred took longer to aim with the rifle than he had with the pistol, and
there was a breathless silence until after the report rang out.
"A four!"
"That's the stuff, Fred!"
"Now, Brassy, let us see what you can do!"
As confident as ever, Brassy Bangs came to the front, took the rifle
handed to him, and shot rather hastily.
"A three!"
Jack was up next, and to the dismay of many of his friends made only a
2.
Then came the second round with rifles, and in that Fred scored a 4,
Bangs a 1, and Jack a 3.
"Hurrah! Fred Rover and Brassy Bangs are tied with eighteen points
each."
"And Jack Rover has fifteen points."
Then came the final round, and amid a breathless silence Fred shot and
scored a bull's-eye. Then came Bangs, and made a 2. And Jack ended the
contest with a bull's-eye.
"Hurrah! Fred Rover wins the match with twenty-three points!"
"Yes, and Jack Rover and Brassy Bangs are tied for second place with
twenty each!"
"Hurrah for Fred Rover!"
"Pretty good shooting, I'll say!"
"It was all to the merry, Fred!" exclaimed Jack, as he caught his
cousin's hand. "You did fine!"
"The best ever!" burst out Andy.
"Say, Jack, why don't you and Brassy shoot off the tie?" questioned
Spouter.
"I'm willing," was the ready reply of the young captain.
"I'll shoot off the tie with pistols," put in Brassy quickly.
"No, let it be with rifles," broke in Randy.
"I'll tell you what I think would be fair," announced Captain Dale. "Each
of you take one shot with a rifle and one shot with a pistol." And after
quite a little discussion it was so agreed.
The pistols were used first, and there Brassy made a bull's-eye while
Jack managed to register a 4. Then the rifles were used, and here Jack,
shooting first, made a bull's-eye while Brassy got a 2.
"Hurrah! Nine to seven in favor of Captain Rover!"
"Some shooting, Jack!"
"If you had shot as good as that in the first contest you might have
beaten Fred."
"I'm quite content, even if I didn't beat Fred," announced the young
captain, with a smile.
Brassy Bangs was quite gloomy over the outcome of the contest, and he and
his cronies lost no time in quitting the range.
"I'm mighty glad you two fellows beat him," announced Gif. "Maybe it will
take a little of the conceit out of him."
"Well, Gif, you've got to admit he's a wonderful shot with the pistol,"
answered Jack.
"Yes. And his rifle work isn't any worse than mine," answered Andy. "Now,
I'll promise to make a lot of bull's-eyes for you if you'll let me use a
good-sized shotgun or a blunderbuss," and at this there was a snicker.
For the rest of that day Brassy Bangs had little to say. But the next
morning he was as loud-mouthed as ever, declaring that he would have won
the contest had he been allowed to use his own pistol--a long affair of
the old-fashioned western variety.
"Had he done that it might have given him one more point," declared
Randy. "Of course that would have put him ahead of Jack in the first
contest, but it wouldn't have helped him when it came to the rifle
work."
"Oh, let's drop Brassy," said Jack. "I am really getting tired of hearing
of him."
"I can't bear him," put in Phil Franklin. "Once or twice he has tried to
become chummy with me, but I've always given him the cold shoulder."
It was now drawing on toward the time for the election, and there was a
great deal of wire-pulling among the various cadets as to who might run
for the offices. Three names were in the field for the office of major:
Jack, a Captain Glasby, and a Lieutenant Harkness.
Glasby was a fellow who was very well liked, while Harkness was a
lieutenant who at one time had been more or less of a crony of Nappy
Martell, Gabe Werner, and others of the crowd that had been opposed to
the Rover boys.
"Well, I sha'n't complain if Glasby gets the position," declared Jack.
"But I'd hate mightily to see Lieutenant Harkness at the head of the
school battalion."
"I never liked Harkness myself," put in Spouter. "He isn't a bit better
in many respects than Gabe Werner."
It was soon noised around the school that Brassy Bangs and his cronies
were doing their best for Harkness, while another crowd, led by Bart
White, were rooting in rather a lively fashion for Captain Glasby.
"We've got to get busy for Jack," said Gif to Spouter. "Come on! Let's
sound out all the fellows in the Hall we think we can influence." And
thereupon he and Spouter and a number of others set to work to
electioneer for Jack as hard as they could.
Several days before the election Andy and Randy obtained permission to go
to Haven Point on an errand. It was rather a disagreeable, misty day, and
they were tramping along through the mud on the outskirts of the town
when they saw Brassy Bangs and a stranger ahead of them. The stranger was
a tall, thin individual, dressed in an old-fashioned suit of rusty black
and with a big slouch hat pulled well down over his head. He was puffing
away at a large black cigar, and seemed to be very much in earnest in
what he was saying to Brassy.
"I saw that fellow around the school about a week ago," declared Randy.
"He didn't look like a very nice sort, either."
"He certainly has a fierce-looking mustache," was Andy's comment. "And
it's as red as his hair."
"I tell you I can't do it, and that's all there is to it," the boys heard
Brassy exclaim, in reply to something the stranger had said.
"And I say you've got to do it," returned the man, and his tone was
decidedly ugly. "You've got to do it--or otherwise you've got to take the
consequences."
"You wouldn't be so mean, Haddon!" pleaded Brassy, and now the Rovers
could see that he was more or less scared.
"Wouldn't I?" returned the strange man harshly. "You just try me and see!
The best thing you can do is to agree to what I said. If you don't,
well----" and here the tall man shrugged his shoulders--"you'll do as I
said before--or you'll take the consequences."