You must get your musket.
Johnny, get your musket—
You must get it now!"
"Wow! that's some song," was Fred's comment. "Better have it copyrighted, Andy."
"Oh, I've already got a double-barreled patent on it," was the light answer. "Anybody who steals it will get ten years in a bathing suit at the north pole;" and at this there was a general laugh.
The boys were awaiting the arrival of Gif Garrison, who came in about noon of that day. Gif was a big boy, and, as mentioned before, was at the head of a great many of the athletic doings of the school.
"Glad to see you fellows here," said Gif, as he shook hands all around. "My! but we're going to have some good times now, aren't we?"
"If we don't, it won't be our fault," responded Jack.
"We've just been learning how to become soldiers," explained Randy. "My head is full of 'Eyes right,' 'Left face,' 'Forward march,' and all that sort of thing."
"Oh, you'll get used to that, Randy, before you've been here very long," returned Gif.