David mumbled his excuses and ducked out of
the dining room, but Aunt Amy seized him firmly just as he thought he
had got away.

"Bedtime for you, David," she said firmly.

"Oh, Aunt Amy, please! I've got to--"

"Upstairs, young man. You've had enough gallivanting around for one
day. You're all worn out."

"I'm _not_!" said David, struggling. "I feel fine. Look, I just _have_
to--"

It was useless. She marched him upstairs to his room and stood in the
doorway until he had undressed and put on his pajamas and got into
bed.

"Now," she said, "you go to sleep. The mountain will still be there in
the morning--unless there's a landslide. Good night." And she turned
out the light and shut the door.

This was awful! He could not sneak downstairs, because the stairs
could be seen from the living room. He could not climb out of his
window, because a rose arbor was directly beneath it, and he would be
ripped by the thorns. And Mother always came in to say good night
before she went to bed. If he was not there when she came in tonight,
there would be a lot of unpleasant explaining to do. The only thing,
then, was to wait until the Scientist went home and everyone was in
bed.

It was a maddening wait. The Scientist's voice went on and on like the
drone of an electric fan, interrupted only by an occasional murmur
from Mother or Dad. For a while David sat in bed twisting the sheets
in his hands; then he got up and paced the room in his bare feet. It
seemed to him that three or four whole nighttimes had passed before he
finally heard all three voices raised and talking at once.

The Scientist was going! Now they were saying good-by at the front
door ... now the door was being closed ... now there were footsteps on
the stairs. He jumped into bed just before Mother put her head in and
said, "Good night, dear." David murmured, pretending to be half
asleep. His door closed again. The light switches snapped, and there
was silence.

He waited another half hour to make sure everyone was asleep. As
quickly and silently as he could, he pulled on his clothes, crept out
of his room, and slid cautiously down the bannister. In the back yard
he put on his shoes, dived through the hedge, and started to race up
the mountainside.

Fortunately there was a nearly-full moon and no clouds in the sky. But
even with this light, it was not easy to keep to the trail. Several
times he lost his way, so that the trip took much longer than usual.