"I was told to come here at four o'clock," I said.
"Quite right. Now tell me, what is this?" he asked, taking from a seat near and placing in my hand a weapon, similar to the one with which the boy was shooting.
I handled it curiously.
"It is a service rifle, reduced size," I remarked.
He nodded.
"Let me see you load it!" he directed, pointing to a box of cartridges.
I obeyed him without hesitation. He pointed to the unoccupied tube.
"Shoot!" he directed.
The tube was an unusually long one, and the bull's-eye rather small, but I fired six shots, and each time the bell rang. Mr. Sonneberg made a note in a book which he had taken from his pocket.
"Very good," he declared, "You have passed first class. You shall have your rifle to-night, and cartridges. Keep them in a safe place, and—remember!"