By this time the planter came out from his late breakfast, and the overseer reported to him what he had been doing the last three hours. They visited the shop where the negro mechanics were sawing out the planks for the doors, and then went to the stables, where Frank remained on duty all the time when not out with one of the teams; and then one of the grooms took his place.
"How many horses are there on the place now, Frank?" asked the planter.
"Thirty-five in all, Major," answered the coachman.
"Are they all fit for service?" inquired the owner.
"No, sir; six of them are breeding mares, and nine are colts, two and three years old. We have fifteen horses and mares four years old and more, for sale, and I reckoned you would sell them about this time."
"That's all, Frank," added the planter as he left the stable.
"I don't know what you are driving at, Major Lyon, but we have twenty-seven horses over three years old, and fit for service, though the three year olds are rather young yet for hard work," said Levi, as they walked towards the ice-house.
"I have held my tongue about as long as necessary; but now all these sores in the State seem to be coming to a head, and I will tell you, between ourselves, that I have an idea of raising a company of Union cavalry to offset the Home Guards of this county," replied Mr. Lyon.
"That's a glorious idea!" exclaimed Levi with tremendous enthusiasm. "I wish I was ten years younger, and weighed thirty pounds less, for I should like to swing a sabre in that company."
"But you are to look out for the plantation and take care of my family while I am away, Levi. You can ride a colt better than any of us; but your work is here, and you may be called upon to do as much fighting as any of us," said Mr. Lyon.