“What do you mean?”

“Can you shoot?”

Sam grinned.

“Don’t make me laugh. I can shoot the eyes out of a spud as far as I can see it.”

“What’s a spud?” piped a voice.

“You a sailor, and don’t know what a spud is?” scoffed Sam. “A spud is a spud, otherwise known as a potato. I am surprised at your ignorance.”

“Louis Flink says he’s going to clean up the whole crowd of us, to-morrow, when we get to shooting.”

“Shooting?”

“Yes.”

“Shooting at what?”