It was not hard work for the first quarter of a mile, for the ascent through the maple woods was easy and there was a well-defined path to follow. The path led around the right elbow of the hill and in the course of time reached the summit from the farther side. But to make the ascent by the path was not considered “sporty” at Riverport, and presently, when the maples had given place to black and yellow birches and oaks and ashes, Malcolm, who was in the lead, swung away from the path and started almost straight up the mountain. The alpen-stocks proved their value now and it wasn’t long before the four boys were puffing like porpoises and the muscles of their legs were protesting vehemently. Jelly was soon occupying a position well in the rear, the perspiration trickling down his face and the sound of his breathing reaching the others like the exhaust of the steam pump in the boiler house at school. He held his precious parcel of rations in one hand and used his stick with the other, and there were times when he wished heartily for a third. The clouds still hid the sun, but the morning had grown warmer, and here in the woods what breeze there was failed to penetrate. Suddenly there was a cry of dismay from Jelly and the others turned anxiously. “What’s the matter?” called Evan. Jelly, some twenty yards down the slope, was dimly visible through the trees. He was stooping over his bundle and pulling the paper away with frantic anxiety. “Anything wrong?” called Rob. “Wrong!” shouted Jelly at last in a despairing voice. “My bundle’s leaking! I’ve lost both chops and two eggs and a whole lot of potatoes!” CHAPTER VIII ON TABLE ROCK A howl of laughter arose from Rob and Evan and Malcolm. Jelly peered up at them disgustedly. “I don’t see anything to laugh at!” he cried. “All I’ve got left is two eggs and three potatoes!” “That’s enough for anybody,” answered Malcolm. Rob had seated himself on a tree-root and was laughing helplessly. “I’m going back to look for them,” called Jelly. “You fellows wait. Don’t you run off and leave me, now!” “We won’t,” gurgled Rob. “But――but get a move on!” “Poor Jelly,” chuckled Evan. “He’s nearly dead already. If he can’t find his ‘pair of chops,’ Malcolm, have we got enough for him to eat?” “Nobody ever had enough for Jelly to eat yet,” answered Rob, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “There’ll be enough at a pinch,” Malcolm replied. “Personally I’m not sorry to get a chance to sit down a moment. This is something of a climb, isn’t it?” “You bet it is,” replied Evan, following the example of the others and seating himself with a sigh. “How much further is it?” “We’ve done about half,” Malcolm answered, “but the rest of the trip is the hardest. What time is it, I wonder.” It was twenty minutes to eleven. “Time enough,” muttered Rob, leaning back against a tree, “if Jelly doesn’t delay the game too long. Isn’t he funny with his ‘pair of chops?’”