“Ah, fellows, this is something like life,” remarked Bart, as he arranged himself on his cot. “Listen to the wind howling outside. We’ll have more snow, I expect, before morning.”
“Let it snow!” exclaimed Frank. “We’re all right now. We’ll have to have our Christmas tree here, fellows. Did you bring anything along to put on it?”
“Oh, we’ll hang up our stockings instead of having a tree,” suggested Ned with a laugh. “But what’s the matter with you, Fenn? Why are you so quiet?”
“He’s thinking of some of the girls he left behind him,” mocked Bart. “Aren’t you, Stumpy? Which particular one last gave you a lock of her hair?”
“Oh, cut it out!” begged Fenn. “I wasn’t thinking of such nonsense at all. I was wondering where those turtles came from. This is a regular stamping place for them, and in the morning I’m going to go on a search.”
“Do you really think so many of them around here means anything?” asked Frank.
“It means something, certainly,” replied Fenn. “This part of the State is noted for turtles, however, there being a number of different species, but I never knew before that they came out in winter. That’s what puzzles me.”
“Maybe we’re over a hidden volcano, and it’s warmer than anywhere else in the neighborhood,” suggested Ned.
“Maybe,” assented Fenn, “only it doesn’t seem very warm just now. There’s a draught somewhere. Bur-r-r-r! No wonder!” he exclaimed. “The tent flap has come open. Who fastened it?”