“I don’t know whether we are going to get to Mount Jefferson or not,” the doctor said at luncheon. “Norman tells me the snow up here was even heavier last winter than it was at Crater Lake. He says he tried to get over the Divide to Jefferson yesterday, by the short way, and the snow blocked him. We’ll have to go in past Marion Lake. That’ll take three days, and maybe we won’t get there that way. I certainly never knew so much snow at this time of year.”
He was wiping the perspiration off his forehead as he spoke, which made everybody laugh. But they could look out of the big plate glass window at the west end of the dining-room and see, fifty miles away, the white-clad summits of the Three Sisters, three big mountains side by side, shining in the sun.
“Are we going to be on horseback all this trip to Jefferson?” Dumplin’ asked plaintively.
“You can walk if you want to,” his father smiled.
“I feel now as if I’d have to,” Dumplin’ sighed. “Wish they made pneumatic saddles.”
That afternoon, between trips to the garage to pack the cars, and trips to the drug store to buy Spider a note-book for his tree observations, and to get ice cream sodas, Bennie acquired a dog. Maybe it would be more truthful to say that the dog acquired Bennie. He was a young dog, hardly more than a puppy, one of those very small collies which the western sheep men use in herding their flocks. Dumplin’ called him a half portion dog. The poor little chap had evidently lost his master, or else he had wandered away from home. He didn’t seem to worry much, however. What he was plainly looking for was somebody, anybody, who would be kind to him. He trotted up and down the street, following different people and trying to attract their attention.
The second time Bennie saw him, he said, “I don’t believe that dog’s got a master. He’s looking for a kind home. Come here, Towser.”
He whistled to the pup, and the dog came bounding up to him, tail wagging madly, and crouched puppy fashion at his feet. When Bennie stooped to pat him, he sprang up, put his forepaws on the scout’s chest, and tried to lick his face.
“Gosh, you nice little mutt!” Bennie exclaimed. “I sure like dogs, and you’re a regular dog.”
To this the dog replied with a whine of joy, and from that moment he clung to Bennie like a brother.