"And Father and Sister Marian could stay at the hotel, if they couldn't stand camp life," Jasper was saying, as he set his men. "And—"
"But I don't believe Grandpapa will want to," Ben was guilty of interrupting. "Mr. St. John says its splendid up at that camp. Oh, Jasper, don't you suppose we can go?" Ben was quite carried away now, and he got the king and queen all mixed up, while his knight and bishop had concluded to change places.
"Oh, what a chap you are!" chaffed Jasper, pointing to them. "See what a mess you've made!"
"Well, I tell you, you mustn't talk about that camp, if you want me to play," said Ben, desperately.
"Oh, well, let's drop the camp," said Jasper, turning his dark eyes on the chess-table, and revolving his plan, for it was his move.
"But I can't. I've just got to talk camp," said Ben, stubbornly.
"Well, you can't. We mustn't either of us talk," said Jasper, "when we are playing. Dear me, what a game that would be!"
"Well, I've got to think camp, then," said Ben.
"All right," said Jasper, "go ahead and think camp, if you must. Then I will beat you all around Robin Hood's barn."
Which he did. And then, as so many things occurred to both of them that had to be uttered about that mountain camp, the chessmen were shut up in their box, the new Christmas game table set back carefully in the corner, and the two boys gave themselves up without reserve to the grand plan for next summer.