“Oh, that bully makes me tired!” cried Pepper Ditmore. “Every time anything is going on he tries to push himself to the front—and nobody wants him—at least I don’t want him.”
“Nor I,” came from Andy Snow and Paul Singleton.
“Sure, an’ I doubt if he’s any better shot nor Major Jack,” remarked Hogan.
“Not half as good, Emerald,” interposed Pepper quickly. “Jack’s a soldier through and through. If he wasn’t the fellows wouldn’t have elected him major.”
“Perhaps Reff Ritter is a good marksman,” said Jack. “He has made some fair scores and he may have been practicing up for this contest. Who was he talking to, Dale?”
“Oh, his usual crowd of hangers-on, Gus Coulter, Nick Paxton, Billy Sabine, and that bunch. Coulter thinks, too, that he can make a big score.”
“Well, I’ll bank on Jack—and on Bart Conners,” said Pepper. “Bart is a good shot and always was.”
“Say, here comes Reff Ritter now,” whispered Andy, as a youth with a somewhat sour-looking countenance put in an appearance. “Gus Coulter is with him.”
“Hello, Reff!” sang out one of the boys, Dave Kearney by name. “I hear you are going to wax us all at target practice to-morrow.”
“Who told you?” demanded Reff Ritter, coming to a halt.