For some time Frank had been revolving in his mind the feasibility of a scheme which he hoped to be able to carry into execution. It was no less than this—to form a military company among the boys, which should be organized and drilled in all respects like those composed of older persons. He did not feel like taking any steps in the matter till he had consulted with some one in whose judgment he had confidence.
One evening he mentioned his plan to Mr. Morton.
“It is a capital idea, Frank,” said the young man, with warm approval. “If I can be of service to you in this matter, it will afford me much pleasure.”
“There is one difficulty,” suggested Frank. “None of us boys know anything about military tactics, and we shall need instruction to begin with; but where we are to find a teacher I am sure I can't tell.”
“I don't think you will have to look far,” said Mr. Morton, with a smile.
“Are you acquainted with the manual?” asked Frank eagerly.
“I believe so. You see you have not yet got to the end of my accomplishments. I shall be happy to act as your drill-master until some one among your number is competent to take my place. I can previously give you some private lessons, if you desire it.”
“There's nothing I should like better, Mr. Morton,” said Frank joyfully.
“Have you got a musket in the house, then? We shall get along better with one.”
“There's one in the attic.”