“Well, I suppose it could be worse,” was Andy’s comment. He had been afraid that he would not pass, for he did very little shooting.
Reff Ritter was the next student up, and by luck more than anything else he made forty-three points.
“I learned to shoot in Paris,” he said, loudly. “A French expert taught me.”
“That was very good,” said Captain Putnam, quietly.
Gus Coulter came next and at first failed to hit the target. His total was twenty-eight points.
“I shall have to give you a few lessons in shooting,” said the master of the Hall.
“The—er—the wind was too strong,” grumbled Coulter.
At that moment came a wild cry from one side of the field.
“Mad dog! Mad dog! Save me! Save me!”