"That's it!" cried the others.

"Have you fellows got a gun club?" came from the man who kept the
shooting gallery, curiously.

"We've got something of that sort," answered the newly declared
leader. "You see, we expect to go out on a hunting tour this
fall and so we got together and called ourselves a gun club."

"The Fairview Gun Club," corrected Whopper. "Nothing like giving
a title that looks like something, as the French Count said when
he called himself a duke."

"Where is your club going?"

"Oh, just up in the mountains, back of Lake Cameron," answered
Snap.

"Is the hunting good there?"

"Pretty fair---so old Jed Sanborn says."

"Well, I wish you luck. You boys are good enough shots to bring
down almost anything," said the shooting gallery keeper.

"Come on up to our orchard and talk things over," said Snap, as
he led the way from the gallery, and in a moment more the boys
were on the Street and making their way to Mr. Dodge's apple orchard,
a quarter of a mile from the center of the town. The other boys
knew as well as Snap that there were some fine fall pippins in