“Where are we going to ride, by the way?” the doctor asked. “Any chance of getting into Jefferson Park?”
“Not a chance,” said Norman. “We can’t even get in to Hunt’s Cove direct, as I ’phoned you. We’ve got to detour around by Marion Lake. Too much snow.”
“Hope he knows where all those places are,” whispered Bennie.
“But can we climb Jefferson from Hunt’s Cove?” the doctor asked. “Has anybody ever done it?”
“Never heard of anybody. But we can have a look.”
“Why can’t you climb it from Hunt’s Cove—wherever that is?” Bennie asked.
“Maybe you can,” Norman replied. “But it’s no picnic. Wait till you see.”
“Well, I’ve been hearing about all this snow,” Bennie grinned, wiping the sweat from his forehead, “for two days. I’d like to see some right now.”
“Give us time,” Norman smiled. “And now we’re off. We’ve got fifteen miles to make before dark.”
“But how about lunch?” Dumplin’ suddenly demanded.