"Certainly, sir," murmured the abashed pupil.
"The point settled, then, we will proceed," said the veteran, with the same incomprehensible, half-sarcastic, half-humorous, but now quite good-natured smile lighting up his grim visage.
"But before we proceed," said Frank, "may I just say what I was going to?"
The old drummer lifted both his sticks, and his eyebrows too (not to speak of his shaggy mustache), in surprise at the lad's audacity.
"Do you want me to report you as insubordinate?" he asked, after a pause, during which the two regarded each other somewhat after the fashion of two dogs making acquaintance—a tall, leering old mastiff looking surlily down at the advances of an anxious yet stout and unflinching young spaniel.
"No, sir," answered Frank. "But I thought——"
"You thought! What business have you to think?"
"No business, perhaps," Frank admitted, confronting the weather-beaten old drummer with his truthful, undaunted, fine young face. "But I can't help thinking sir, for all that."
"You can help expressing your thoughts out of season, though," said the veteran.
"I will try to in future, sir," answered Frank, laughing.