“I’d rather have a fishing contest,” put in Stuffer, who loved to go out with his rod.
“Sure, and what’s the matter wid an eating contest, Stuffer?” inquired Hogan, with a broad grin. “I’m after thinking you’d take the head prize there—and all the others, too!”
“Huh, you needn’t talk,” grumbled Stuffer. “I notice you can do your share when we sit down in the mess hall.”
“That’s one thing I like about Putnam Hall,” declared Fred Century. “A fellow always gets enough to eat—at least I do. Now at Pornell Academy the meals were very uneven. The dinners were usually good, but some of the suppers were woefully slim.”
“If the meals were slim here I’d rebel,” answered Pepper.
“So would I!” cried Stuffer. “I’d raise the biggest kick you ever heard of.” How true their words were to become we shall see later.
The shooting soon began—at a distance of one hundred yards, and for two hours there was a steady crack! crack! of the rifles.
Each cadet had three shots at each target. A bull’s-eye counted five, so a perfect score would total up to forty-five.
On the short range, Jack managed to make three bull’s-eyes, thus scoring 15. Pepper got 13 and Andy 11. Much to his own delight Reff Ritter got 15, although one of his shots barely touched the bull’s-eye. Coulter received but 9, much to his disgust. The other cadets ranged from 10 to 5,—the five being made by Mumps, who was almost afraid to discharge his weapon.
