“A hit, son. I admit it,” Mr. Stone answered. “We do a lot of bragging ourselves. At that, we’ve got a pretty nice climate.”
“I move that the next man who says ‘climate’ has to wash all the dishes for the next three days,” said Dumplin’. “All in favor.”
A great shout of “Aye!” went up, and on that they turned in.
“Praises be to the man who invented the air mattress,” sighed Bennie, as he crawled wearily into his sleeping bag. “Oh, you pneumatic kid!”
“Had enough hard work to satisfy you?” his uncle asked.
“Till about eight A. M. tomorrow,” Bennie answered. “Good night, friends. Please tell the bellhop to bring me hot water at 7:30.”
CHAPTER XI
Dumplin’ Tests the Strength of a Snow Cornice on Garfield Peak
Their friend the California camper and his party were up bright and early. At least, they were up early. As Bennie woke up at their noisy shouting, and listened to their conversation, he didn’t think they were particularly bright.
“Oh, well, Irvin Cobb couldn’t make me laugh at half-past five in the morning,” Dumplin’ said at breakfast. “I heard ’em, but I went to sleep again. I just stayed awake long enough to hear whether they were talking about their cli—ha! you didn’t catch me!—about the atmospheric conditions of California.”
“Did they?” his father asked.