Then six fearfully hungry boys sat down to table.
"There's no jam on the table," grunted Harry.
"Oh, wait until we get outside of the solid stuff before we bother with sweets," begged Darrin.
It was nearly seven when the glorious meal was over.

As nothing but potatoes and coffee had depended on a cook, nothing went wrong with the meal.
"Now, we can clean up and wash the dishes," proposed Dick Prescott.
"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.