"Just a good, chummy number," he said. "The Appalachian camps will hold us without overcrowding, and we won't always be worrying about stragglers getting lost."
"What are the Appalachian camps?" asked Art.
"The Appalachian Club is a club of men, with headquarters in Boston," Mr. Rogers answered, "and they do more than anybody else to make hiking in the White Mountains possible. They have built dozens and dozens of trails, which they keep cleaned out and marked clearly, and at several strategic points they have built shelters where you can camp over night or get in out of the storm. They have a stone hut on the col between Mounts Madison and Adams, a shelter in the Great Gulf, another in Tuckerman's Ravine, and so on. I've been mighty glad to get to some of these shelters, I can tell you."
"Gee, those names—Great Gulf—Tuckerman's Ravine—make you want to get to 'em in a hurry!" cried Peanut. "Let's plan an equipment right off."
"That is pretty important," said Mr. Rogers. "We want to go as light as we can, and yet we've got to keep warm. I've been in a snow-storm on Mount Washington in the middle of August."
"Whew!" said Peanut.
So the four Scouts began planning, at their shoes, where plans for every hike ought to begin. As Mr.
