"There are so many things to do that it is hard to decide where to
begin," declared Bob. "Of course we want some coasting and some
snow-shoeing; and we must climb Monadnock. Van says he hasn't seen
a real mountain since he came East. Then we want to be on hand for
the maple-sugar making. Why, ten days won't be half long enough to
do everything we ought to do."
His mother laughed.
"You must have a good sleigh ride, too," she put in.
"I draw the line on a sleigh ride if we have to go with that horse
that brought us up from the station," announced Bob.
"Me, too!" Van echoed.
"It would take you the entire ten days to get anywhere and back if
you went sleighing with the Admiral," said Mr. Carlton.
Every one smiled.
"I'd advise your seizing upon the first clear day for your Monadnock
tramp," Mr. Carlton continued. "You'd better make sure of good
weather when you get it. It won't make so much difference with your
other plans; but for the mountain trip you must have a good day."
"I do want Van to get the view from the top if he makes the climb,"
Bob answered.
So the chat went merrily on.
Yet despite the gaiety of the evening and Mr. Carlton's evident
interest in the boys' holiday schemes Bob more than once caught his
father furtively studying Van's profile. Obviously something either
puzzled or annoyed him. There was, however, no want of cordiality in
his hearty goodnight or in the zest with which he advocated that if
the next morning proved to be unclouded the two lads better make
certain of their mountain excursion. He even helped lay out the walk
and offered many helpful suggestions. Bob's uneasiness lest his
father should not like his chum vanished, and when he dropped into
bed the last vague misgiving took flight, and he fell into a slumber
so profound that morning came only too soon.
It was David who, entering softly to start the fire in the bedroom
fireplace, awakened Bob.
He sat up and rubbed his eyes sleepily.
"What sort of a day is it, David?" he questioned in a whisper that
he might not arouse Van, who was lying motionless beside him.
"It's a grand day, Mr. Bob. There ain't a cobweb in the sky."
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.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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