"This is slow fire at 200 yards," answered the coach, who seldom lost his temper and had the patience of Job. "Each man will fire two strings of five shots each from the standing position, then we shall move back to 300 yards, and fire the same number of shots from either the sitting or kneeling position. No sighting shots allowed at either of these ranges. The targets are up, men! Commence firing!" Immediately following the command came the crack of rifles all along the line--the record practise was under way. Neither Richard nor Henry, before this week on the range at Guantanamo Bay, knew anything of rifle shooting, though both, one in the New England woods, the other along the bayous of the Mississippi, had spent many happy hours with dog and shotgun. Practise with the high-powered military rifle was a decidedly different proposition, but they took to it as a duck does to water, and during instruction practise they agreeably surprised Sergeant Battiste with work that was excellent for beginners. Dick, having more patience and being more cool-headed, strong and nerveless, was without doubt the better of the two. Henry’s one failing was his impatience to "get the shot off." In case he failed to bring his sights in perfect alignment on the bull’s eye with a steady hand, he would fall back on the quick "fly shot" so necessary to the hunter armed with a fowling piece, but disastrous to one who aspires to perfection with the military weapon. "Five o’clock three for you, Cabell," sang out the coach; "must have pulled down on your gun at the last moment. Remember my caution--take your time and squeeze the trigger. Good work, Drummer Comstock; you’ve found the bull first shot. It’s nipping in at twelve o’clock.[#] It pays to be calm and deliberate." "I’m way off to the right, Sergeant," called out Jones irritably; "all three of my shots have gone in the same place--twos at three o’clock, and you said there wasn’t any wind blowing." [#] "Nipping in at twelve o’clock"--A rifleman’s term for a bull’s-eye just barely cutting the black at the top. "Not a bit of wind, Jones, and if you would only remember to set your wind gauge properly those twos would have been bulls, every one. You have almost three points of right wind on, and you shouldn’t have any. Apply your quarter-point rule. Each quarter-point on your wind gauge at 200 yards moves your shot how many inches on the target?" "It moves it two inches, and three times two is six inches," said Jones smugly. "My shots are about two feet from the center of the bull, so there must be wind blowing from the left." "Your arithmetic needs a little oiling, Jones. There are four quarters in every full point and that makes twelve quarters altogether for your three points. Each quarter point moves you two inches, making twenty-four inches in all. You see, that is the two feet that your shots are out, which is what I said in the beginning."