"I guess she'll sleep all right to-night," said the man with the bugle, who had entered with the boys.
"And she won't tackle the Crawford Bridle Path with high heeled shoes on very soon again, either!" said Rob. "Are we going to sleep here, too, Mr. Rogers? I don't believe we'll want to sleep outside. The thermometer by that window is still down almost to freezing."
The man with the bugle whispered to them, so the proprietor wouldn't hear, "Don't stay here. They'll stick you for supper and put you in rooms where you can't get any air. The windows are made into the roof, and don't open. I got a horrible cold from sleeping here last year. Guess they never air the bedding. We are all down at the coach house. You may have to sleep on the floor, but the window will be open, and you can cook your own grub on the stove."
"That's us!" said Peanut. "Say, we want to get some sweet chocolate first, though, and some post-cards, don't we?"
The Scouts all piled over to the long counter at one side of the room, and stocked up with sweet chocolate, and also wrote and mailed post-cards, to be sent down on the train the next day. The summit of Washington in summer is a regular United States post-office, and you can have mail delivered there, if you want.
