They were ready to start shortly after nine. Malcolm had secured his provisions and had discovered a potato-sack in the cellar. This he cut into three squares. Then he divided the load and wrapped the portions up in the pieces of sacking. These were tied to the shoulders of the three members of the expedition with pieces of twine. As they started off towards the Doctor’s cottage they created quite a sensation among the fellows they met and were the recipients of many inquiries, while humorous comments on their appearance were not wanting. Mr. George Washington Jell hailed them from the steps of Academy and hurried after them. “Where are you fellows going?” he asked. “Up Graytop?” “We are,” replied Rob soberly. “Let me go, will you, Rob?” “No, Jelly, I will not.” “Oh, go ahead! Why not?” “Because I have some consideration for your welfare, Jelly. You’d be just skin and bones by the time you got to the top――if you ever did! And besides, I have troubles of my own, Jelly, and can’t stop to pull you over the rocks or carry you in my arms when you get tired.” “I won’t get tired, honest, Rob. I’m a dandy climber!” “You look it,” laughed Malcolm. “You don’t mind if I go, do you?” asked Jelly, turning his attention eagerly to Malcolm. “Indeed I do, Jelly. You see, we have only an ordinary amount of food with us, and either you’d starve or we would.” “If you’ll just walk slow I’ll run back and get some more,” said Jelly. “It won’t take me but a minute. Go on, Rob, let me go along.” Rob looked inquiringly at Malcolm and Evan. Evan laughed. “Let him come, Rob,” he said. “The more the merrier. But he _will_ have to get some more grub.” “We-ll,” began Rob. But Jelly was already hurrying back toward the kitchen. “I suppose we might as well take him,” said Rob. “He’s a decent chap. But he will be just about all in by the time he gets up. We’ll go ahead slow and let him catch up to us.” But by the time they had reached the first ascent it was evident that if they were to have the pleasure of Mr. Jell’s society on the climb they would have to wait for him. So they perched themselves on top of the stone wall that divides the school property from the woods and waited. “Let’s cut some sticks,” suggested Malcolm. “They help a lot until you get to the rocks.” “Right you are,” Rob agreed. “We must have some alpen-stocks. Who’s got a good strong knife?” Evan supplied that article, and they set out in search of suitable branches for their purpose. By the time they had cut and trimmed four stout sticks Jelly was in sight, toiling breathlessly up the slope with a package wrapped in a flapping newspaper in one hand. When he reached them he was so out of breath that they mercifully perched themselves on the wall again and allowed him to recuperate.