AT THE RIFLE RANGES
It did not take the cadets long to reach the place where Randy said he
had noticed the two strangers. Here, to the surprise of the Rovers and
their chums, they discovered a faint trail leading north and south
through the forest.
"The men must have been following this footpath," remarked Fred. "Now
then, Randy, which way were they headed?"
"They were headed north," was the reply.
They found that following the footpath was by no means easy. It led in
and out among big trees and around various clumps of bushes, and more
than once they found themselves in a hollow where going was
exceedingly treacherous. Then in spots they had to climb over the
rough rocks.
"Hello, here is something!" cried Jack presently. "Now, what in the
world is it?" he went on, as he held up an object he had picked from
between two of the rocks.
It was a curiously-shaped bar of steel, about a foot and a half long,
round at one end and flattened at the other, with several square holes
punched through the latter end.
"Looks like a piece of machinery of some kind," said Spouter, after
the thing had been passed around for examination. "You know, Randy,
you may be right, after all, and that may be a piece from an
aeroplane," he added, looking the bar over critically.
Carrying the bar of steel, Jack continued along the footpath, followed
by the others, and a few minutes later emerged on a much larger trail.
Here were the marks of wagon tracks, and also horses' hoofs.
"Hello, this proves that a wagon came this way!" cried Fred.
"Maybe it was the one those Germans were riding in," added Andy.
"Oh, I wouldn't want to say that," returned Jack. "This may be a
regular thoroughfare through this corner of the forest."
They followed the wagon tracks, and soon found that the road, came to
an end among some rocks overlooking Barlight Bay. Then they came back
and walked in the other direction, and presently emerged on the
highway along which they had marched on their way to the camp.
"That ends it, as far as following this trail is concerned," said
Jack. "Those men could go to almost anywhere from here."
The cadets looked around for a while, and then went back to the spot
where Randy had seen the men early in the morning. They looked for
footprints, but were not successful in finding any they could follow
for a distance.
"Gee, I'm getting tired!" said Randy, with a yawn. "Please remember I
did not get much sleep last night."
"Yes, and I'm getting hungry," added his twin. "I think we'd better go
back to camp."
The others thought so, too, and a few minutes later all set off. As
before, the young captain took the lead, and he and Randy lost no time
in visiting the tent occupied by Captain Dale.
"Well, this certainly is a find," declared the old West Pointer,
looking the steel bar over critically. "I agree that it belongs to
some sort of machine, although what, I haven't the least idea. If any
of the authorities come here I'll let them look it over."
Several days, including Sunday, passed without anything new
developing. Several of the local authorities had appeared, and also a
Secret Service man from Camp Huxwell. All listened closely to what
Captain Dale and the Rovers had to tell, and examined the steel bar
critically. Then they went off, and that, for the time being, was all
those at Camp Barlight heard of them.
"Hurrah! the girls are coming soon, and then maybe we'll get a chance
to run over to Camp Huxwell," cried Fred, one day after the mail had
been brought in.
"They say they will be over late in the week," said Jack. He looked at
his cousins. "We'll have to lay plans to treat them royally."
The young cadets had continued their drills and also their bayonet and
other exercises. Now it was announced that target practice would start
the following morning and continue until all of the cadets had proved
what they could do in hitting the mark.
"Well, Fred, here is your chance to show what you can do!" cried Andy,
after this announcement had been made. "You were the high man in our
family last term." He remembered that out of a possible score of 25
Fred had netted 19, while Jack had received 18, Randy 12, and himself
but 10.
"Please don't forget that I've got Lewis Barrow to shoot against,"
answered Fred. Lewis Barrow had been the high man on the previous
occasion, with a score of 20.
There were three targets to be shot at--one at short range, one at
medium, and one at long range. It would be possible to score 20
points at each target, making a total of 60 points for each cadet.
In the past Gabe Werner had been a fairly good shot. He was in the
habit of patronizing a shooting gallery in Haven Point, and the
proprietor of this had given him many lessons in how to hold a rifle
and how to take aim.
"I guess here is where I get a chance to show those dubs what I can
do," remarked Gabe to his cronies.
To make the contest more interesting for the cadets, Colonel Colby had
authorized Captain Dale to put up six prizes; the first a gold medal,
the second a silver medal, and the others various books of more or
less value.
"Now, Fred, I want you to do your prettiest," said Jack to his cousin.
"You came out ahead of us last term, and this time I want you to top
the whole school."
"I'll do my best," answered the youngest Rover boy. "But, Jack, you've
got to do your best, too."
"Sure I will!"
The target practice lasted for three days, and the competition among
more than half of the cadets was very keen. The others were such
indifferent marksmen that they had no hopes of winning any of the
prizes, and so they shot more because they were expected to do so than
for any other reason.
"Well, I guess I'm keeping up my reputation!" cried Randy, with a
grin, when his shooting had come to an end. "Twelve points at the
first target, six at the second, and four at the long distance--a
total of twenty-two points."
"I'm a whole barrelful better than that!" answered his brother gaily.
"I made twenty-three points. I guess we had both better open a school
for target practice," and he grinned broadly.
At the short-range target Jack and Fred were tied with 16 points each,
and, strange as it may seem, Lewis Barrow and Gabe Werner were tied
with 17 points each.
"Say, Werner can certainly shoot," remarked Spouter, who had made but
eleven points. "I knew Barrow could do it, but I didn't expect it of
Gabe."
"Shooting at the short-range target is his specialty," announced Walt,
whose score was also a modest one. "Remember, he has been doing a lot
of practicing at the Haven Point shooting gallery."
At the medium-distance target the scores were not so good, Jack making
10, Fred 11, Barrow 13, and Werner 14.
"Hello, what do you know about this! Werner is ahead!"
"He shot one point better than Lew Barrow."
"I knew he could do it!" boasted Bill Glutts. "Just wait until you
fellows get at the long-distance range! He'll show you what's what!"
The score now stood, Jack 26, Fred 27, Barrow 30, and Werner 31. The
others had all dropped behind several points more.
"Say, you fellows have got to hump yourselves," declared Randy, as he
came up to his cousins. "Werner is four and five points ahead of you."
"Well, I am doing the best I can," declared the young captain. He
would have resented such familiarity from anyone except his fun-loving
cousin.
"And I'm doing the best I can," asserted the young lieutenant.
At the long-distance range Lewis Barrow was the first of the four to
show his skill. He was a young Westerner, and had a great familiarity
with firearms. He shot quickly and neatly, making a score of 10.
"Hurrah! That gives Lew Barrow a total of forty points!"
"Good work, Lew! I guess that gold medal is yours."
"Not much!" returned the Westerner, with a faint smile. "I didn't do
very well. I guess the wind was against me."
The next to shoot was Fred, and to the amazement of many of those
looking on, the youngest Rover made a score of 15, giving him a total
of forty-two points.
"Good work, Fred!" cried Jack, grasping his cousin by the hand.
"Oh, it takes our Fred to do it!" cried Andy, dancing around. And then
he had to turn a couple of handsprings to relieve his feelings.
"Huh! you just wait till Gabe shoots," said Bill Glutts.
"He's the one to win that gold medal!" piped in Codfish.
"Well, there is one thing sure--you'll never walk off with any medal,
Codfish," returned Randy; and at this there was a laugh, for the sneak
of the school had made a poor showing on all of the targets--in fact,
he was so timid that he was almost afraid to discharge his rifle.
Gabe Werner strode forward with a superior air and inspected the rifle
that was handed to him critically.
"I want a gun that shoots straight," he said.
He took a long time to shoot, sighting his rifle several times before
each discharge. His first shots were fairly good, but then his
nervousness asserted itself, and he all but missed the target. His
total was eight points, bringing his grand total up to thirty-nine
points.
"Hello, Werner's dropped down!"
"He is one point behind Barrow and three points behind Fred Rover."
"Say, Gabe, what happened to you? Did you get a dose of the shakes?"
asked one of his followers.
"Maybe somebody moved the target on him," suggested Andy slyly.
"Perhaps the rifle had a twist in the barrel," announced Randy.
"Oh, say, this is none of your affair!" growled Gabe Werner, as he
threw down the rifle in disgust and faced the two fun-loving Rovers.
"You mind your own business!"
"Gracious, but you're peppery!" said Andy.
"I'll pepper you some day!" howled Werner, and then turned on his heel
and strode off, looking anything but pleasant.
"Gee! but he takes it hard," remarked Walt.
"How foolish," returned Gif. "Even if I was disappointed, I wouldn't
show it."
It was now Jack's turn to shoot, and he did so without delay. His
first two shots were not particularly good, but then he found the
bull's-eye twice in succession, much to the amazement of all the
onlookers.
"Say, there's shooting for you!"
"Fred, you'd better look to your laurels or Jack will beat you," cried
Spouter.
"I want him to beat me--if he can," answered Fred generously.
And beat his cousin Jack did by just one point. He scored a total of
forty-three, while Fred had forty-two.
Barrow came in for third place with forty points, and Werner fourth
with thirty-nine points. Frank Newberry was fifth, and a cadet named
Henkerson sixth.
"Well, you beat me fairly and squarely, Jack!" cried Fred, shaking
hands.
"Not such an awful lot at that, Fred. Only one point," returned the
young captain good-naturedly.
"But it gives you the gold medal, while I'll have to content myself
with the silver medal. Just the same, I'm glad I did as well as that,"
added Fred.