For several days after the hazing, fellows—many of whom were only dimly familiar to Evan—accosted him as he passed with such remarks as: “Kick it again, Kingsford!” or, “Sixty yards easy that time!” But it was all good-natured, and Evan only smiled and went on, and presently the joke died out. It was a very busy first week of school for Evan. In the first place, it was no easy matter to get shaken down to his studies, many of which were either quite new to him or presented in an entirely new way. And there was daily practice on the gridiron after recitation hours, and plenty of hard work in the shape of study in the evenings. But there was fun too, and, on one occasion at least, even adventure.

It was Malcolm Warne who suggested the trip up Graytop. Football practice was over and as Evan started up the slope toward the gymnasium he encountered Malcolm and Rob. Rob was lazing along with his hands in his pockets and a good-natured grin on his face, and Malcolm was talking earnestly to him as though striving to arouse him from his mental indolence. It was Rob who called to Evan.

“Hello, there, you Evan! Come over here.”

“I’ve got to change.”

“What of it?” asked Rob. “You can stop a minute, can’t you? What do you suppose this chump wants to do? You’d never guess!”

“I’m not even going to try,” replied Evan, with a glance at Malcolm’s amused countenance. “I’m too tired.”

“Well, he wants to climb Graytop.”

“Does he?” Evan turned and let his gaze travel up the side of the mountain. “Why not?”

“I guess you never tried it,” said Rob. “Moreover, he wants us to go with him.”

“Now?” asked Evan, startled.

“No, to-morrow,” answered Malcolm. “It’s Saturday, you know. We can start in the morning, take some grub and cook dinner on the top. It’s a lot of fun. Rob is such a lazy-bones that he thinks he can’t climb it.”

“Me?” said Rob indignantly. “Why, I’ve been up there a half-dozen times. It’s one of the easiest things I do. I was only considering Evan. He’s young and tender and it’s a hard climb up there. You don’t want to go, do you, Evan?”

“Sure I do,” answered his room-mate heartily. “I should think it would be lots of fun. I love to picnic on mountain-tops.”

“Well, I’m not going to lug the basket,” sighed Rob.

“We won’t take any basket,” explained Malcolm. “I know a trick worth two of that. We’ll divide the stuff into three lots and each of us will take our share in a pack.”

“A what?”

“A pack; done up in a bundle and tied on our backs.”

“You must think I’m a mule,” Rob grumbled. “All right, though, I don’t want to spoil anyone’s fun.”

And so it was finally settled that they were to start out bright and early after breakfast the next morning. The matter of rations was left to Malcolm because, as Rob put it, he could look pathetic and move the cook’s heart. It was necessary to obtain permission for the expedition and Rob attended to that that evening.

“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.”

When morning came, and when Evan, after lying half awake for a time with the consciousness of being disagreeably chilly, finally dropped himself on his elbow and glanced toward the windows, it seemed that the weather didn’t approve of the expedition, for the morning world was gray and damp and cold. The wind was blowing out of the east and a thin fog drifted in from the bay. Evan fumbled for his watch and found that it was time to get up. But the idea of arising in his pajamas and putting down the window didn’t appeal to him, so he huddled himself under the blanket again and called to Rob.

“O Rob! Time to get up!”

There was no answer from across the room, however, and Evan tried again.

“O Rob! Get up, you lazy beggar, and close the window!”

There was a grunt and Rob flopped over and flattened himself out more comfortably, with his face buried in his arm.

Evan threw a pillow across, but missed. A second landed on Rob’s head, but only drew a grunt.

“Sluggard!” muttered Evan contemptuously.

With both pillows gone he could no longer be comfortable, and so, after a minute’s hesitation, he scrambled out of bed and dashed across to the window and sent it down with a crash loud enough to awaken anybody but Rob. Shivering, Evan got some of his clothes on. Then he pulled blanket and sheet from the slumberer and gleefully watched results. Rob drew his legs up with a protesting murmur and sleepily groped for the bed-clothes. Not finding them, he opened one eye and discovered his plight. Then he opened the other eye and regarded Evan blinkingly.

“Huh?” he muttered inquiringly.

“Get up,” said Evan sternly.

“Huh?” Rob’s eyes closed slowly.

“Get up, you silly chump. Don’t you know you’re freezing?”

“Yes, I—know.” Rob made a supreme effort and turned over. “What time is it?”

Evan told him. “And look at the weather,” he added. “Isn’t it rank?”

Rob cast an uninterested glance toward the windows and then sighed and arose.

“Gee, but it’s cold!” he muttered as he went over and regarded the gray and misty landscape. “What rotten weather,” he sighed. “Still, it’s mostly fog and maybe it will burn off before long.”

“I suppose we might leave our climb for another day,” Evan suggested.

“Oh, this isn’t bad. I rather like a cloudy day. Besides, it will be cooler, and climbing that old hill is rather warm work.”

“Thought you didn’t want to go.”

“Well, when I once make up my mind that a thing has to be done,” responded Rob as he splashed and spluttered over the basin, “I like to do it and get it over with. Br-r-rr! This water feels as though it had ice in it.... Besides, Mal would be disappointed.”

“All right; I’m game,” Evan assented.

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.

“All I could get,” panted Jelly, “was bread and potatoes and six raw eggs. Cook was grumpy as she could be. Said she’d given out all the food she was going to. Said somebody had helped himself to a lot of crullers from the pastry-room.”

Malcolm looked idly at the sky and hummed a song.

“I thought they were doughnuts,” murmured Rob.

“It was extremely thoughtless of ‘someone,’” said Evan. “I hope you like eggs and potatoes, Jelly. You must be a vegetarian.”

“No, he’s a Presbyterian; aren’t you, Jelly?” said Rob.

“Don’t you worry about me,” answered Jelly with a grin. “I swiped a pair of chops when cook wasn’t looking. I think they’re veal.”

“A pair!” laughed Malcolm. “How do you know they’re a pair? Wouldn’t it be awful if you’d got two rights or two lefts, Jelly?”

“Let us hope they’re not veal,” said Rob gravely, “because you have to bread veal chops and serve them with tomato sauce, and our culinary arrangements are extremely limited.”

“It was very, very wrong of you,” observed Malcolm sternly, “to steal chops from dear cook. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if you choked yourself on the bones.”

“Aren’t any bones,” replied Jelly triumphantly. “They’re all meat. Besides, you swiped the crullers.”

“Not at all,” answered Malcolm calmly. “The crullers were lying there in a big pan and I merely helped myself to our share instead of waiting until dinner-time.”

“Well, I just took my chops instead of waiting,” responded Jelly.

“I have a feeling,” said Rob, “that this excursion is going to end in disaster. The presence of a thief in our midst will certainly work us ill. However, as I am particularly fond of eggs, Jelly, we won’t send you back. You may come along if you will promise never to steal a pair of veal chops again. And now, if you have sufficiently recovered your breath, we will proceed. Where’s my alpen-stock? Ah, here it is. I love my little alpen-stock.”

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!”