It was our business to stand by, however, so we stood by while Tommy, firing lanyard in hand, sighted the machine.
"Right!" he sung out to "Stump" and "Flagg," who were at the training wheels.

"Right handsomely," added Tommy, working the elevating gear, as the gun moved slowly round.

The gun roared and jumped back on its mount six or eight inches, but promptly slid back again--forced back by powerful springs.

The shell sped on its way, humming as it went, and struck a little short of the target, sending up a great fountain as it was exploded by the impact with the water.
"Hay" pulled the breech lever and the breech plug came out, allowing "Stump," who wore heavy gloves for the purpose, to extract the empty shell.

This he dropped in the concrete waterway, then ran to his place at the training wheel; a fresh shell had been put in the gun, meanwhile, and it was ready for business again.