Once more he fired, and the resulting laugh told that he had again missed.
"I guess this is your off day," observed Captain Dutton.
"Looks like it," remarked Toots ruefully, as he walked off, whistling "In a Prison Cell I Sit," and ending with the bugle call to charge.
The target practice soon began, and Dick, to his own surprise, made a good score, getting forty-nine out of a possible fifty.
"We have decided to have a practice march, around the lake, to-morrow," Major Webster announced to the cadets after target practice was over. "Fatigue uniforms of khaki will be worn, and the affair will last all day. Lunch will be taken in the field. You know the regulations, Captain Dutton, so inform your command of them, and be ready after reveille to-morrow."
The major paused, Captain Dutton saluted, and his superior officer turned away, his sword clanking at his heels.
"A practice march!" exclaimed Paul to Dick. "That will be sport."
"It sure will," added Dick.
"Silence in the ranks;" cried Dutton, in a dictatorial manner. "Lieutenant Stiver, watch Hamilton, I think he talks altogether too much."
It was an unjust accusation, but Dick knew better than to answer back.