"Sure I know Muldoon," the boy said.
"Have you seen him shoot?"
"With the Lyle gun, you mean? Isn't he a dandy at it?"
"That is what I would say," the old man continued. "How does he fire him?"
"Why, he just fires it! No," he corrected himself, "he doesn't either. I see what you're driving at. That's right, I did see him doing some figuring the other day."
"I teach Muldoon," said the old man. "I show him how to tell how much wind, how to tell how far away a ship, how to tell when a line is heavy or light. He figure everything, then fire. Bang! And the line to bring the drowning men home falls right over the ship. It is?"
"It is, all right," the boy agreed. "Muldoon gets there every time. I always thought he just aimed the gun, sort of naturally."
"It is all mathematics," said the old man. "You have guns in the Coast Guard?"
"Rapid-fire six-pounders," the boy answered. "At least I know that's what the Itasca's got. She's the practice-ship at New London, you know."
"Do you have to learn gunnery?"