school
around our part of the country and I _know_." "I am going to
boarding-school this fall, and I don't believe I will have much of an
allowance.
My folks won't think it is wise, I know." "A lot of people are like
that," said Jardin. "Are you going away to school too, Frank?" "I
expect I am," said Frank. "I don't know where yet; the folks have not
decided for either of us, but we hope
we will go together; don't we, Bill?" "Sure!" agreed Bill. "Wish you
knew where you were going," said Jardin. "I would make dad send
me where you were. That would be a lark. The Big Three: how would
that
go for a name, eh?" "Great!" said Bill absently. He finished the last
spoonful
of his ice-cream. "Let's go
out and see the town," he suggested. "There is a shooting gallery
around the corner that has the cutest moving targets I ever saw."
"That's the ticket!" said Jardin. "I can shoot almost better than I
can do anything else." They wandered
out, and turned down to the shooting gallery. A soldier
was leaning idly against the door frame. Bill looked
twice, grabbed the young man in a bear hug. "Lee, you old scamp!" he
cried. "How did you happen to get here?" The dark face of the
handsome young half-breed
lighted up. "I drove the
car in," he answered.
"Your mother is shopping and your father will come in with Colonel
Spratt
in time for dinner. I have been watching these people shoot.
Are you boys going to try it?" He glanced at Jardin
with a keen eye, then looked away instantly. "I can't shoot for sour
apples
and you know it. I suppose you want to have
a good laugh at me," said Bill. "All right, here goes!" He laid down
his money and received the little rifle. "No moving targets for me,"
he
