The Brighton lads naturally thought this would be a simple test of their own shooting before the captain only, but when they crossed the field to the meadow that faced the wide targets and pits they saw a dozen men already there and soon discerned several officers and the commander himself. As they stepped up to the group and saluted, General Harding greeted Herb and Roy almost jocosely.
"Ha! Ready to bat some more balls over the net, eh, Whitcomb? I hear you made some rapid returns and good placement shots down at Mrs. Thompson's not long ago. Now we are going to find out if you can really shoot as well as you play tennis."
The boys observed that all the other marksmen were lying flat, some with head, some with feet toward the target and they were seeking every means to rest their rifles steadily, to set telescope sights just so, to get their elevations of rear sight perfectly and then to delay shooting until satisfied as to every condition.
Herb was assigned a place and a target at two hundred yards; just behind him stood a flagman. The boy requested the latter to signal to the marker not to touch the target until he had fired ten shots, and this was done.
Tallied scores were being shown the officers, and they paid very little attention to any one in particular. But Roy, standing back of Herb, said:
"The general keeps looking this way; got his eye on you, me boy. There goes your fresh target up; now give it to her! With that size bull's-eye it's a cinch."
Herb brought his gun to his shoulder and, standing, fired five shots in rapid succession, hardly four seconds apart. Then, slipping in another clip, he repeated even a little more quickly. After a few moments a big letter "P" was shoved up in front of the target, the marker, evidently having some difficulty in finding it, as perfect scores were indeed a rarity, even on a twelve-inch bull's-eye.
"Here comes the general and the whole bunch almost on a trot. The old man saw you do that!" announced Roy, and in a moment the commander had his hand on Herb's shoulder, though he was talking fast to the other officers:
"Saw it all. Done standing. Quick work, too; no dallying." Then to the lad: "Can you repeat that?"
Herbert nodded. "That's not remarkable; so can Flynn here. With practice 'most anybody ought to."