weather—at least he couldn't. They entered the little hotel to see the inside. Several people were there already. At the back of the room was a big stove, with a fire in it, too. To the boys, who had but just arrived after their hot climb, the room seemed uncomfortably warm.
"Going to spend the night here? Don't know whether I've got room for you all," said the proprietor.
"No, we're going to sleep out," Rob answered him. "We never sleep inside on a hike."
"Well, I reckon you'll need your blankets," the man said. "The water froze here last night, in the rain barrel."
"What's that?" put in Peanut, who was examining picture post-cards. "Say, I move we go back down a way to camp."
"I do too, if you're going to try again to warm yourself between my shoulder blades," said Art.
Everybody laughed, and a man came forward from behind the stove—a funny looking man, with big, hobnail shoes and big, shell-rimmed spectacles.
"Which way are you going down the mountain in the morning?" he asked.
"By the Beaver Brook Trail," Mr. Rogers answered.
"Oh, that's all right, then," said their new acquaintance. "You stay up here long enough to see
