"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."
"Very well; if you will get it, we can make a beginning now."
Frank went in search of the musket; but in his haste tumbled down the attic stairs, losing his grasp of the musket, which fell down with a clatter.
Mrs. Frost, opening the door of her bedroom in alarm, saw Frank on his back with the musket lying across his chest.
"What's the matter?" she asked, not a little startled.
Frank got up rubbing himself and looking rather foolish.