but if we don't,
we are sure to take the boxing match. We've a surprise for you there.
Here they go."

The revolver match was on. There were three men on each team. The first
mark was set, a target at twenty yards with a six-inch bull's eye.
Frank fired first. He hit the bull's eye easily. So did the others, all
except one of the _Indefatigable_ crew, who was thus eliminated, much
to his disgust, as the spectators jeered him.

The next shot at a smaller mark eliminated one of the _Queen Mary's_
crew. An _Indefatigable_ man and a _Queen Mary_ man both missed the
next mark and there remained but Frank for the _Queen Mary_ and a man
named Simpson for the _Indefatigable_.

The target had been removed to sixty yards and the bull's eye was but
two inches. Frank fired and scored a hit. So did Simpson. Next both hit
the mark ten yards farther back.

A one-inch bull's eye was substituted. Frank fired first. He scored a
clean hit. Simpson also hit the eye, though not so squarely. Still it
counted a hit.

Now the bull's eye was reduced to half an inch, and at seventy yards it
seemed almost impossible to hit it. This time Simpson was to fire
first. Carefully he took deliberate aim and fired.

A shout went up from the _Queen Mary_ men who stood near.

"Missed it by a hair," said one. "Beat it, Chadwick! Beat it!"

"He can't beat it! Hooray! We've won!" This from the _Indefatigable's_
crew.

"Good shooting, old man," said Frank, quietly, as he took his position.

Carefully he measured the distance with his eye.

Then he raised his revolver slowly, and seeming scarcely to take aim,
fired.

And a yell went up from the _Queen Mary's_ crew.

"Bull's eye! Bull's eye!" they cried, and danced and capered about the
deck.

Frank had won. He had hit the bull's eye squarely.

The men rushed up and danced about him.

"Good work!" they cried. "Five points for us. Nine to seven now. We'll
win this yet!"

Simpson approached Frank and extended a hand.

"Good shooting, son," he exclaimed.

Simpson was a man well along in years, and he put this touch of
familiarity to his words to make Frank realize that they were sincere.
"I used to be something of a shot myself," he said. "But I guess you
are better than I ever was."

Frank took Simpson's hand.

"You would probably beat me next time," he said.

Simpson shook his head.

"Not in a thousand years," he said, and walked off.

Meantime, Captain Raleigh and Captain Reynolds