He was slipping on his overcoat as he spoke. "Which of the boys do you like best?" he asked casually. "I don't know," replied Bobby after an instant's thought. "Carter Irvine's got an air-gun: I like him. And Johny English is all right, too. I wish I were as strong as Johnny English," he ended with a sigh. Mr. Orde paused in reaching for his valise. "Can he take you down?" he asked shrewdly. "Yes, sir!" replied Bobby with a vivid flush. "All right, you be a good boy, and when I get back I'll show you a few tricks to fool Mr. Johnny," Mr. Orde chuckled. "There's a lot in knowing how." XIV THE SHOOTING CLUB When Bobby proposed again that his father oversee general shoots in the back yard, the latter demurred. "Haven't any time," said he. "And you youngsters certainly can't be turned loose with two guns alone. I'll tell you: you organize your club, and have a regular time to shoot every week. I'll appoint Martin Chief Inspector; but it must be distinctly understood that there is to be no shooting unless he's here." Martin was the "hired man" about Grandpa Orde's place. The children fell on the idea with alacrity, and at once adjourned to Bobby's room. Carter Irvine suggested formal organization. "Somebody's got to make targets; and somebody's got to buy cartridges and collect the money for them; and somebody's got to buy prizes--we got to have prizes--and somebody's got to keep the scores." After much talk they elected officers to perform these duties; and formulated curious but practical by-laws. Bobby was elected secretary and treasurer; and he has to-day a copy of them written in his own boyish unformed hand. Among other things they provided that "any one pointing a gun, accidentally or otherwise, at anybody else or Duke, is fined one cent." The entire club went into a committee of the whole, marched down town in a body and pestered a number of store-keepers. Finally it purchased a silver bangle a little larger than a ten-cent piece, had it hung from a bar pin, and inscribed "First Prize." The second prize, following Mrs. Orde's practical suggestion, was a bright ribbon. Winners were privileged to wear these until defeated. The shoots were conducted with great ceremony. Each took a single chance in turn until five rounds apiece had been expended. In a loud voice the scorer announced the results, and the name of the next on the list. The shooting was done from a dead rest over the saw-horse, and at about fifteen yards. Martin sat by on the bridge-approach to the barn, smoking a very short and very black clay pipe upside down. He rarely said anything; but his twinkling eyes never for a moment left the excited group. Martin was reliable. Occasionally he was called upon to referee some particularly close decision--as to whether a certain bullet-hole could be said to have cut the edge of the black or not--and his decisions were never questioned.