"Gee, do you have to carry all that weight up those places?" demanded Prattie.
"You do if you want to eat and keep warm when you get to the top," Mr. Rogers laughed.
"Me for little old Southmead," Prattie replied.
"Yes, you stay right here, and dance the minuet with Lucy Parker," said Art scornfully. "You big, lazy tub!"
Prattie bristled up, but the other Scouts laughed him down. However, there were several more who seemed, as time went on, to feel rather as Prattie did toward the White Mountain hike. Some of them got discouraged at the task of saving up so much money. Besides, it was easier, when spring came, to go out and play baseball than it was to work for a few pennies, which had to be put in a bank and saved for summer—a long way off. Others didn't see the trip in the light Art and Peanut saw it. It seemed too hard work to them.
"They make me tired," Art declared one spring afternoon. "They haven't any gumption."
"Boys are something like men, I guess," Peanut answered sagely. "Some men get out and do things, an' get rich or go to Congress, while others don't. Look right here in Southmead. There's Tom Perkins, he's got everything you want in his store, from sponges to snow-shoes, and he's rich. Bill Green, who might do just as well as he does,
