"I'm just dancing with impatience! They've been
gone five minutes! Come help me finish!"
Bob fastened his horse, rolled back his sleeves, and took hold with a
will.
"Where's your examining board, and your candidates?" he inquired. "I
thought I was going to see an examination."
"Up the Meadow Trail," panted the girl. "Don't stop to talk. Hurry!"
They hurried, to such good purpose, that shortly they were clambering,
rather breathless, up the steeps of the Meadow Trail. This led to a
flat, upper shelf or bench in which, as the name implied, was situated a
small meadow. At the upper end were grouped twenty-five men, closely
gathered about some object.
Amy and Bob plunged into the dew-heavy grasses. The men proved to be
watching Thorne, who was engaged in tacking a small target on the stub
of a dead sugar pine. This accomplished, he led the way back some
seventy-five or eighty paces.
"Three shots each," said he, consulting his note-book. "Off-hand.
Hicks!"
The man so named stepped forward to the designated mark, sighted his
piece carefully, and fired.
"Do I get each shot called?" he inquired; but Thorne shook his head.
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