“Now, young gentlemen,” said Captain Putnam, when the quartermaster of the battalion had distributed the cartridges. “Kindly remember that your cartridges have bullets in them. I want no loading or firing without permission. A rifle, thoughtlessly discharged, may do great harm, and there will be no need of loading your guns until you are called upon to fire at one of the targets.”
“Have we—we all got to do the—the firing?” asked Fenwick, the school sneak, in a trembling voice.
“Certainly,” answered Captain Putnam.
“I’ll wager Mumps is afraid to shoot with bullets,” whispered Pepper to Andy Snow. “He always handles his gun as if he was afraid it would go off.”
“He’s as much of a coward as he is a sneak,” answered Andy. His face broke into a sudden grin. “I’ve got an idea,” he whispered.
“Let me in on it quick,” returned Pepper, scenting fun.
“I’ve got a pack of firecrackers, left over from last Fourth of July——”
“Andy, how could you keep them all this time?” cried The Imp, reproachfully. “Why, a pack of firecrackers means dead loads of fun. Let me have them, please.”
“What, the whole pack? Not much! I want some fun myself, sometime. I’ll let you have a dozen crackers, though.”
“All right—I’ll make them do.”