“Let’s see, have I got it right?” asked Peanut. “Mile and three-quarters from Tuckerman hut to Washington, three and a half miles to Six Husbands’, mile and a half to sprained ankle, mile up Jefferson and back, three miles to the hut--that’s ten and three-quarters miles, and I guess we can call it eleven, all right, and some up and down hill, take it from me!” “Well, we did more’n that,” said Frank; “we had the mile and three-quarters from Tuckerman’s, six to the Madison Hut along the Gulf Side, and three back to you folks, and three back to the hut again. That’s thirteen and three-quarters, and we took in the summits of Jefferson and Adams, so we can call it an even fifteen. Some up and down for us, too.” “Well, eleven over the Six Husbands’ will stand off your fifteen,” Peanut declared; “won’t it, Rob?” “I think it will,” said Rob, “but let’s not fight about it. What’s the grand total?” “Eight the first day,” said Art, “from Sugar Hill station to camp; ten up Kinsman; twenty-one on Moosilauke; seventeen in Lost River and on to the Flume camp for you fellows, and eighteen for Peanut and me; sixteen over Lafayette; ten on Cannon and in Crawford’s; nine on the Bridle Path, fighting storm; thirteen and a quarter in Tuckerman’s and Huntington--let’s call it fourteen, ’cause we climbed the Huntington head wall a way; eleven for half of us in the Gulf, and fifteen for the rest; and five on the last day. What does that make?” Rob, who had put down the readings on a bit of paper, added the total. “One hundred and twenty-one for half of us, one hundred and twenty-six for the rest,” he said. “About a hundred and twenty-five miles in ten days,” said Mr. Rogers. “Well, that’s not so bad, when you’re toting a pack and a blanket, and fighting clouds and hurricanes, and shinning up Six Husbands’ trails. Are you glad you came, boys?” “Are we!” they shouted, in one breath. “You bet!” “We haven’t done so awful much real scouting though,” added Peanut. “Why not?” said the Scout Master. “It seems to me we have. We’ve been prepared, haven’t we? We’ve handled ourselves in storms and clouds, we’ve helped other folks, we’ve known how to signal for aid from one mountain top to another, we’ve kept ourselves well and hardy in the open, and we’ve had a bully good time. After all, we’ve put a lot of scout lore into use, when you come to think of it. That’s what scout lore is for--to use, eh, Peanut?” “Guess you’re right. Gee, you’re always right!” said Peanut. “I say three cheers for Mr. Rogers, the best Scout Master in America! Now, one----” “Sh!” said Rob. “We all agree, but the man in that next berth is snoring already. He might not agree!” “Well, I can snore as loud as he can,” cried Peanut, “if I get the chance. Let’s turn in. And to-morrow A. M. we’ll be in old Southmead! Golly, wish I was in the Great Gulf!” “You couldn’t tell the other fellers what a good time we’ve had, if you were,” said Art.