When the shoulder packs were on, and the blanket rolls, and the canteens, and the cameras and camp kits, everybody was glad enough of the alpenstocks which the doctor handed around.
“Say, I need this stock to help me stand up,” said Dumplin’. “I feel like a walking department store.”
“I’ll bet we aren’t toting any more than a soldier has to carry on a march, at that,” said Spider. “Are we, doctor?”
“No, I don’t believe we’re packing so much,” Uncle Billy answered. “A gun’s heavier than a stock, too. But it’s enough. Going to be hot today.”
As the little procession filed past the hotel (which by now was full of tourists), a crowd came out to watch them go past.
“Going on a hike, boys?” somebody called out.
“No,” Bennie answered, “we’re going over to Wizard Island to play tennis.”
“Wonder what makes people ask foolish questions?” Dumplin’ mused.
“It’s the——” Bennie began. Then he caught himself. “Ha! thought you had me, didn’t you?—it’s the altitude!”
“You chaps won’t talk so much at three o’clock,” remarked Mr. Stone.