“Never mind, just now, mother,” returned Frank. “I want to speak to father about something.”
Taking his cap from the nail in the entry where it usually hung, Frank went out to the barn. He found that his father was nearly through milking.
“Is breakfast ready?” asked Mr. Frost, looking up. “Tell your mother she needn't wait for me.”
“It isn't ready yet,” said Frank. “I came out because I want to speak to you about something very particular.”
“Very well, Frank, Go on.”
“But if you don't think it a good plan, or think that I am foolish in speaking of it, don't say anything to anybody.”
Mr. Frost looked at Frank in some little curiosity.
“Perhaps,” he said, smiling, “like our neighbor Holman, you have formed a plan for bringing the war to a close.”
Frank laughed. “I am not quite so presumptuous,” he said. “You remember saying last night, that if I were old enough to take charge of the farm, you would have no hesitation in volunteering?”
“Yes.”