CHAPTER IV
Moosilauke
Everybody was awake early the next morning.
"Gosh, I didn't sleep very well!" said Peanut,
shivering as he built up the fire. "Here it is
the fifth of July, and me wrapped up in an army
blanket, with a sweater on—and cold. Kept waking
up, and getting closer to Art. He's kind o' fat and
makes a good stove."
"Should think you did!" said Art. "You woke me up about forty-'leven times bumping your back into mine. I wasn't very cold. Been warmer, though."
"If it's cold here," put in Rob, "at four thousand feet, what'll it be on Washington at six thousand?"
"I guess we'll sleep inside on Washington," said Mr. Rogers.
"Oh, no!" cried Art.
"Well, you can bunk outside, and the rest of us'll go in," laughed Frank. "Look, there's the sun!"
Sure enough, in the east, across the white cloud which hung below them in the Notch, and beyond the wall of the Lafayette range, a great red ball was rising. It seemed to heave up above the mists as
