“I told Doc,” he related after supper, “that we were taking Evan up to show him the beauties of the surrounding country. And Doc was real pleased; said it was very thoughtful of me and showed a nice disposition. I guess I made a hit all right.” “What are we going to take to eat?” asked Evan. “Steak and potatoes and bread and coffee,” answered Malcolm. “We’ll broil the steak over the fire and bake the potatoes――” “And boil the bread and toast the coffee,” interrupted Rob flippantly. “You talk like a guinea-pig, Mal! Isn’t there going to be any pie or doughnuts?” “Yes, if I can raise them.” “I hope you can. Doughnuts ought to be raised, oughtn’t they? I’ll carry the doughnuts because they’ll be light.” “You’re an idiot,” laughed Malcolm. “We’ll have to take a coffee-pot along, too. Last year some of us went up there and took a lot of coffee and forgot the pot.” “And this is the chap to whom we are going to entrust our young and innocent lives!” exclaimed Rob dejectedly. “A chap who has a record like that! I refuse to go along!” “Oh, you’ll go all right enough when you see the steak and things I’ll get,” scoffed Malcolm. “Huh! I know all about picnic steak. It’s burned black on the outside and is all red and raw in the middle. And it tastes of smoke.” “Not the way I cook it,” laughed the other. “You wait.” “Oh, I suppose you do it in a chafing-dish! The worst of it is, fellows, that after you’ve climbed up there you’re so hungry that you can eat anything. Last time I went up I had to gnaw the bark off the trees for the last half-mile to keep up my strength.” “I wondered who had been blazing the trees up there,” said Malcolm innocently. “Somebody’s telling whoppers,” laughed Evan, “for I can see from down here that there aren’t any trees on the top.” “There were, but Rob ate them all down! Well, nine o’clock sharp, you fellows――don’t forget.” Rob groaned. “Forget! I wish I could. I shall dream of it all night. If I have the nightmare, Evan, please wake me up.” “You have something that sounds like a nightmare about every night,” answered Evan dryly. “You’re lucky you didn’t get in here with him, Malcolm. He’s the noisiest brute when he’s asleep I ever heard.” “I don’t believe it!” said Rob indignantly. “I never hear a sound!” “Because you’re making too much noise.” “He’s probably inventing things in his sleep,” Malcolm laughed from the doorway. “Good-night.” “Good-night. By the way, Doc says we must be careful about fires up there, because things are so dry. Guess he’s afraid you’ll burn the old mountain down, Mal. Well, see you in the morning.”