It was nipping cold, and, even with the window tightly closed and nailed over with slats, Sam could not endure it to remain on the bench long. Leaping up he began to stamp his feet and slap his arms across his chest to get them warm. Soon he heard Tubbs doing the same thing.
"I guess he's worse off than I am," thought the youngest Rover. "That stone cell hasn't any bench in it any more, and it must be twice as cold and damp as this room. It's a shame to put any one there in this freezing weather. I don't believe Captain Putnam would stand for it if he was here."
He tried to speak to Tubbs, but the wall between was too thick, and he soon gave up the idea. Then he continued to stamp his feet and slap his arms, and even went through an imaginary prize fight, in order to warm up. It was now growing dark, and with the darkness the atmosphere of the storeroom became colder and colder.
