David tiptoed out and Bob nestled down once more beneath the
blankets. It was fun to lie there watching the logs blaze up and see
your breath rise on the chilly air; it was fun, too, to know that no
gong would sound as it did at school and compel you to rush madly
into your clothes lest you be late for breakfast and chapel, and
receive a black mark in consequence. No, for ten delicious days
there was to be no such thing as hurry. Bob lay very still
luxuriating in the thought. Then he glanced at Van, who was still
immovable, his arm beneath his cheek. His friend's obliviousness to
the world was irresistible. Bob raised himself carefully; caught up
his pillow; took accurate aim; and let it fly.

It struck Van in the head, routing further possibility of sleep.

"Can't you let a fellow alone?" he snapped.

"Wake up, you old mummy!" shouted Bob. "A great mountain climber you
are, sleeping here all day. Have you forgotten you're going up
Monadnock to-day?"

"Hang Monadnock! I was sound asleep when you lammed that pillow at
me, you heathen. What's the good of waking me up at this unearthly
hour?" yawned Van.

"It's seven o'clock."

"Seven o'clock!" Van straightened up and stared. "Why, man alive, I
haven't been asleep fifteen minutes."

"You've been lying like a log for nine mortal hours," chuckled Bob.