"Nonsense. It's your stupidity. You've lost us a good mark."
Dutton angrily slammed the breech-block shut. Dick gave a start, but stiffled the cry of pain that he was ready to give utterance to, for one of his fingers was caught in the breech, and the blood spurted from it, as the angry captain closed the gun.
"Open the breech! Quick!" cried Paul, who had seen what had happened.
"What's that?" asked Dutton, who had turned aside.
Dick's roommate did not answer. Instead he took hold of the block with both hands, and wrenched it open, releasing our hero, whose white face showed the pain he suffered.
"Sorry I hurt you," said Dutton, calmly. "You shouldn't have had your finger there. I suppose you can't drive now, in the next test."
"I'll drive," said Dick, grimly, as he bound his handkerchief tightly around his finger, to stop the bleeding. The nail was smashed, and it was very painful.
"Then hurry up, and get the horses. They're ready to begin."
This test was a difficult one. In turn the different gun squads were to approach a certain spot on the gallop. They were to go through a narrow passage, indicated by stakes stuck into the ground, and, at the end were to suddenly wheel the giui, fire three shots, and continue on at a
