Art had now turned back from the map into the reading matter.
"Listen to this!" he exclaimed. "Here's a description of the Tuckerman Ravine path up Mount Washington. It's three and six-tenth miles, and the time given for it is four hours and fifteen minutes. That's less than a mile an hour. Gee, I call that pretty slow!"
"Do you?" laughed the Scout Master. "Well, if we average a mile an hour on the steep trails, I'll be satisfied. You wait till you hit the head wall with a pack on your back, and a blanket on your shoulder, and see how many miles an hour you want to travel!"
"Keeps sounding better and better!" cried Peanut. "Golly, I can't wait! When do we start?"
It was agreed, as soon as Rob got home from college, to start the day before the Fourth of July, and celebrate the Fourth in the mountains. Rob suspected that Mr. Rogers suggested this date partially in order to keep Peanut from getting into trouble "the night before," as Peanut was always a leader in the attempts to ring the Congregational church bell, and this year the sheriff had declared he'd arrest any boy he caught near the steeple. But Peanut was too excited over the mountain hike to worry much at losing the night before fun. On the afternoon of the second, all five Scouts had their equip-
