He was both cold and hungry, and at last he went back to the bed. He slipped between the blankets without undressing. He had no intention of going to sleep, but drowsiness stole over him as he grow warm, and soon he was sleeping soundly.
He was wakened by a sharp rap on the window. He sat up and was startled to see a dark figure on the porch roof. The next instant he recognized Clem Lowther, and he at once went to the window and softly raised it.
Clem stepped inside, shaking the snow from his clothes. "I climbed up the apple tree and dropped on the roof," he said in a whisper. "I was awfully afraid your folks would hear me. Did you get licked?"
Roger nodded. He felt his indignation rising again.
"So did I," returned Clem. "Mad Jarrocks and your father came over to our house and told on me. Father went out and cut a birch, and I can feel the smart yet. Though if I had done anything wrong I wouldn't have minded."
"Neither would I," assented Roger.
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