Magnus would have given worlds to venture to look behind and see how the idiot below was fagging; and Joe would have given a lot to see the lout above come a cropper and smash his leg.

It wants a pretty hot friendship to stand the test of a mountain-side.
At last (without a suspicion of what o'clock it was, or how far they had come), Magnus actually stopped and lay down.
"Serves him right," said Joe, triumphantly, running with all his might to take advantage of his chance.

Alas! when he got up to his friend, he discovered that after all he was not dead-beat, or wounded, or ill.
The reason he had stopped was that he had got to the top.
As was natural, as soon as this agreeable and amazing discovery was made, Magnus minor and my brother Joe forgot their rancour and loved one another again with a mighty affection.

Their own brothers weren't in it.
"Good old Joey!" cried Magnus, as my brother lay on the turf beside him; "crowd in, old hoss--lots of room!" "Good old Magny!" responded Joe; "what a day we're having!" Presently they condescended to look about them.

They were on a sharp ridge, one side of which sloped down into the valley from which they had ascended, the other looked out on an uninterrupted prospect of cloud and mist.
"This isn't what's-his-name at all," said Joe.