"What's that?" demanded Tom Reade belligerently. "Work? Right on top of a supper like that?"
"I guess we do all feel more like taking a nap," laughed Dick. "Well, we'll rest for half an hour and see if we feel more like effort then. What do you say if we all pull our chairs up to the fire?"
"How close to the fire?" asked Dan, screening his eyes with his fingers as he glanced at the blazing logs.
"Oh, not too close for comfort, of course," agreed Dick. "But come on. We can swap stories."
"Will they be anything like the spanking story that good Old Dut told you last September, Dick?" teased Dave.
"Not right away, I guess," smiled Dick. "I don't believe any fellow, after that big supper, feels as if he had energy enough to tell a spanking story. But what kind of stories shall we tell?"
"I'll wait for some one else to start it," yawned Tom, as he took his seat in the semi-circle at a respectful distance from the blaze.
"Who else is going to be a quitter or a loafer?" inquired Dave scornfully.
There was a pause. No one appeared to have a story that he wanted to try out on such a critical audience.
At last Dick remarked thoughtfully: