In the past Gabe Werner had been a fairly good shot. He was in the habit of patronizing a shooting gallery in Haven Point, and the proprietor of this had given him many lessons in how to hold a rifle and how to take aim.

"I guess here is where I get a chance to show those dubs what I can do," remarked Gabe to his cronies.

To make the contest more interesting for the cadets, Colonel Colby had authorized Captain Dale to put up six prizes; the first a gold medal, the second a silver medal, and the others various books of more or less value.

"Now, Fred, I want you to do your prettiest," said Jack to his cousin.

"You came out ahead of us last term, and this time I want you to top the whole school."

"I'll do my best," answered the youngest Rover boy. "But, Jack, you've got to do your best, too."

"Sure I will!"

The target practice lasted for three days, and the compet.i.tion among more than half of the cadets was very keen. The others were such indifferent marksmen that they had no hopes of winning any of the prizes, and so they shot more because they were expected to do so than for any other reason.

"Well, I guess I'm keeping up my reputation!" cried Randy, with a grin, when his shooting had come to an end. "Twelve points at the first target, six at the second, and four at the long distance--a total of twenty-two points."

"I'm a whole barrelful better than that!" answered his brother gaily.

"I made twenty-three points. I guess we had both better open a school for target practice," and he grinned broadly.

At the short-range target Jack and Fred were tied with 16 points each, and, strange as it may seem, Lewis Barrow and Gabe Werner were tied with 17 points each.

"Say, Werner can certainly shoot," remarked Spouter, who had made but eleven points. "I knew Barrow could do it, but I didn't expect it of Gabe."

"Shooting at the short-range target is his specialty," announced Walt, whose score was also a modest one. "Remember, he has been doing a lot of practicing at the Haven Point shooting gallery."

At the medium-distance target the scores were not so good, Jack making 10, Fred 11, Barrow 13, and Werner 14.

"h.e.l.lo, what do you know about this! Werner is ahead!"

"He shot one point better than Lew Barrow."

"I knew he could do it!" boasted Bill Glutts. "Just wait until you fellows get at the long-distance range! He'll show you what's what!"

The score now stood, Jack 26, Fred 27, Barrow 30, and Werner 31. The others had all dropped behind several points more.

"Say, you fellows have got to hump yourselves," declared Randy, as he came up to his cousins. "Werner is four and five points ahead of you."

"Well, I am doing the best I can," declared the young captain. He would have resented such familiarity from anyone except his fun-loving cousin.

"And I'm doing the best I can," a.s.serted the young lieutenant.

At the long-distance range Lewis Barrow was the first of the four to show his skill. He was a young Westerner, and had a great familiarity with firearms. He shot quickly and neatly, making a score of 10.

"Hurrah! That gives Lew Barrow a total of forty points!"

"Good work, Lew! I guess that gold medal is yours."

"Not much!" returned the Westerner, with a faint smile. "I didn't do very well. I guess the wind was against me."

The next to shoot was Fred, and to the amazement of many of those looking on, the youngest Rover made a score of 15, giving him a total of forty-two points.

"Good work, Fred!" cried Jack, grasping his cousin by the hand.

"Oh, it takes our Fred to do it!" cried Andy, dancing around. And then he had to turn a couple of handsprings to relieve his feelings.

"Huh! you just wait till Gabe shoots," said Bill Glutts.

"He's the one to win that gold medal!" piped in Codfish.

"Well, there is one thing sure--you'll never walk off with any medal, Codfish," returned Randy; and at this there was a laugh, for the sneak of the school had made a poor showing on all of the targets--in fact, he was so timid that he was almost afraid to discharge his rifle.

Gabe Werner strode forward with a superior air and inspected the rifle that was handed to him critically.

"I want a gun that shoots straight," he said.

He took a long time to shoot, sighting his rifle several times before each discharge. His first shots were fairly good, but then his nervousness a.s.serted itself, and he all but missed the target. His total was eight points, bringing his grand total up to thirty-nine points.

"h.e.l.lo, Werner's dropped down!"

"He is one point behind Barrow and three points behind Fred Rover."

"Say, Gabe, what happened to you? Did you get a dose of the shakes?"

asked one of his followers.

"Maybe somebody moved the target on him," suggested Andy slyly.

"Perhaps the rifle had a twist in the barrel," announced Randy.

"Oh, say, this is none of your affair!" growled Gabe Werner, as he threw down the rifle in disgust and faced the two fun-loving Rovers.

"You mind your own business!"

"Gracious, but you're peppery!" said Andy.

"I'll pepper you some day!" howled Werner, and then turned on his heel and strode off, looking anything but pleasant.

"Gee! but he takes it hard," remarked Walt.

"How foolish," returned Gif. "Even if I was disappointed, I wouldn't show it."

It was now Jack's turn to shoot, and he did so without delay. His first two shots were not particularly good, but then he found the bull's-eye twice in succession, much to the amazement of all the onlookers.

"Say, there's shooting for you!"

"Fred, you'd better look to your laurels or Jack will beat you," cried Spouter.

"I want him to beat me--if he can," answered Fred generously.

And beat his cousin Jack did by just one point. He scored a total of forty-three, while Fred had forty-two.