and walked to the various islands around the guns. He pulled a couple of cleaning kits from the shelves along with a rifle sling and carried them to his pack and then he tore the tag off the sling and attached it to the shotgun.
“I'm settin' up a range,” he said to Jeffrey. Richard walked the aisles nearby, pulling out targets. He walked back to the gun display counter, then turned and shone his flashlight the length of the store. “Not open enough,” he mumbled. He shined it diagonally and started walking, counting his steps as he went. He shoved aside displays and even toppled a set of shelves with men's sportswear, finally stopping after thirty-three steps. He looked back toward the gun counter and could see Jeffrey's headlamp bobbing in the distance. “That's about a hundred yards,” he said to himself.
He grabbed hold of a display and pulled it over to his hundred yard spot, then set the targets on top of it. He left his hand flashlight shining on it and went back to the camping department for a lantern. He found a battery-powered one and stuffed in some batteries and switched it on.
It still worked.
Richard carried it over to the targets and replaced the flashlight, then walked back to the counter. He took off his shotgun and picked up the scoped Weatherby, then moved behind the counter. He found a box of Weatherby premiums and loaded the rifle. He rested it on the countertop at a spot where he had a clear line to the targets. “Zip it up, I'm shooting,” he said to Jeffrey, looking over at him. Jeffrey gave him a Thumbs Up and pointed to the earplugs he was wearing, then down at the counter to a set of ear protectors.
“Hrumph,” muttered Richard. He set the rifle down and put on the ear protectors, stretching them to fit over his head. He picked up the rifle and set the scope for 5x. It had a big aperture, so it worked pretty well in the low light. He fired a round. Low right. He emptied the clip. A perfect grouping, all low right. He reloaded the rifle and made some small adjustments on the scope, then fired two rounds. Almost centered. He made a minor adjustment on both knobs and fired again. Perfect.
Richard reloaded the rifle and handed it to Jeffrey. “Here!” he yelled to get his voice past the ear protection they both wore. “I'm gonna change out the target, you try it!” He walked around the counter and over to the targets. After replacing the one he'd shot up with a fresh target, he moved well away from the firing line. He flashed his light three times at Jeffrey, who started shooting. When he saw three lights flash from Jeffrey, he walked back to the target.
Perfect grouping, dead center. He switched out the target and walked back to the gun counter.
“I'd say that scope was sighted,” he said to Jeffrey as he removed the hearing protectors.
“Good job,” agreed Jeffrey, who also pulled his out. “I've never seen anybody scope a rifle that fast,” he added, hoping to flatter Richard and stay on his good side.
Not that he has a good side.
“Hrumph,” muttered Richard. “Let's wrap this up.” Jeffrey put another Steiner on a Browning .300 and handed it to Richard, who looked at the barrel and shoved it back at Jeffrey. “Damnit man, same calibers! Use the same damn calibers! That way we don't have to carry different ammo and get our asses blown off trying to find the right kind!”
Jeffrey took the rifle back sheepishly and removed the scope, his hands shaking. He found a Browning .30-06 and put the scope on, then handed it over. Richard checked the barrel. “Better,” he said. He put on his ear protection and motioned for Jeffrey to do the same. He loaded the rifle with the same premium ammunition and sighted it in.
Jeffrey handed him a scoped .22 and worked on another one. Richard sighted in each one, adding more lanterns before taking about ten minutes for each gun. He took a .22, .30-06, and a 12 gauge bore snake
“I'm settin' up a range,” he said to Jeffrey. Richard walked the aisles nearby, pulling out targets. He walked back to the gun display counter, then turned and shone his flashlight the length of the store. “Not open enough,” he mumbled. He shined it diagonally and started walking, counting his steps as he went. He shoved aside displays and even toppled a set of shelves with men's sportswear, finally stopping after thirty-three steps. He looked back toward the gun counter and could see Jeffrey's headlamp bobbing in the distance. “That's about a hundred yards,” he said to himself.
He grabbed hold of a display and pulled it over to his hundred yard spot, then set the targets on top of it. He left his hand flashlight shining on it and went back to the camping department for a lantern. He found a battery-powered one and stuffed in some batteries and switched it on.
It still worked.
Richard carried it over to the targets and replaced the flashlight, then walked back to the counter. He took off his shotgun and picked up the scoped Weatherby, then moved behind the counter. He found a box of Weatherby premiums and loaded the rifle. He rested it on the countertop at a spot where he had a clear line to the targets. “Zip it up, I'm shooting,” he said to Jeffrey, looking over at him. Jeffrey gave him a Thumbs Up and pointed to the earplugs he was wearing, then down at the counter to a set of ear protectors.
“Hrumph,” muttered Richard. He set the rifle down and put on the ear protectors, stretching them to fit over his head. He picked up the rifle and set the scope for 5x. It had a big aperture, so it worked pretty well in the low light. He fired a round. Low right. He emptied the clip. A perfect grouping, all low right. He reloaded the rifle and made some small adjustments on the scope, then fired two rounds. Almost centered. He made a minor adjustment on both knobs and fired again. Perfect.
Richard reloaded the rifle and handed it to Jeffrey. “Here!” he yelled to get his voice past the ear protection they both wore. “I'm gonna change out the target, you try it!” He walked around the counter and over to the targets. After replacing the one he'd shot up with a fresh target, he moved well away from the firing line. He flashed his light three times at Jeffrey, who started shooting. When he saw three lights flash from Jeffrey, he walked back to the target.
Perfect grouping, dead center. He switched out the target and walked back to the gun counter.
“I'd say that scope was sighted,” he said to Jeffrey as he removed the hearing protectors.
“Good job,” agreed Jeffrey, who also pulled his out. “I've never seen anybody scope a rifle that fast,” he added, hoping to flatter Richard and stay on his good side.
Not that he has a good side.
“Hrumph,” muttered Richard. “Let's wrap this up.” Jeffrey put another Steiner on a Browning .300 and handed it to Richard, who looked at the barrel and shoved it back at Jeffrey. “Damnit man, same calibers! Use the same damn calibers! That way we don't have to carry different ammo and get our asses blown off trying to find the right kind!”
Jeffrey took the rifle back sheepishly and removed the scope, his hands shaking. He found a Browning .30-06 and put the scope on, then handed it over. Richard checked the barrel. “Better,” he said. He put on his ear protection and motioned for Jeffrey to do the same. He loaded the rifle with the same premium ammunition and sighted it in.
Jeffrey handed him a scoped .22 and worked on another one. Richard sighted in each one, adding more lanterns before taking about ten minutes for each gun. He took a .22, .30-06, and a 12 gauge bore snake
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