"You'll learn yet that you're never on the top of a mountain till you get there," Mr. Rogers laughed.
But this final quarter mile was nearly level—or seemed so after the steep climb—and they were soon at the Summit House, with the view spread out to all four parts of the compass.
What a view it was! But all the boys concentrated their gaze in one direction—northeast. There, thirty miles or more away, over the top of the Lafayette range, they saw Mount Washington again, for the first time since the first Sugar Hill view, saw even the Summit House on its cone. That was the final goal of their hike—the high spot—and beside it all the billowing sea of blue mountain tops between paled to insignificance.
"She looks a long way off!" said Art.
"And me with a blister," sighed Peanut. "But it's Pike's Peak—I mean Washington—or bust!"
The party now turned their attention to the Summit House, which was a two-story structure of fair size, built partly of stone, with great chains going over it to lash it down.
"I suppose if it wasn't chained down it would blow away in winter," said Art. "Strikes me we're going to get some blow, even to-night."
The west did, indeed, look windy, with great clouds suddenly piling up. But the Scout Master said you could never tell much about mountain
