“Why, all you have to do is get in a car and drive out a few miles on a macadam road, and there you are right at the foot of rock climbs so hard nobody has ever climbed ’em! Out East, we either have to sail to Europe and tackle the—the Spitzes, or else ride 3,000 miles across the U. S. A. when we want a climb. I’m going to get a job in Oregon when I get through school.”
“So you’re satisfied with Oregon?” his uncle laughed.
“I’ll tell the world I am!” Bennie answered.
Saint Peter’s Dome and Columbia River. Mount Adams in Far Distance.
They rolled into Portland in time for dinner, which they all ate at Dumplin’s house. The next day the scouts spent in packing their trunks, and seeing the city with Dumplin’ for a guide. They took the evening limited for home. The doctor took them to the depot, and Mr. Stone and Dumplin’ came down to see them off. The depot was full of men and women, in khaki clothes, with packs and alpenstocks. They were members of the Mazamas, going to take another train to get them to Diamond Peak, for a week’s climbing.
“If one of them spoke a kind word to me, I’d swap my ticket East in three and four-fifths seconds, and go with ’em,” Bennie declared. “I don’t want to go home, Uncle Billy.”
“Don’t you want to see your father and mother?” the doctor asked.
“And get your little old Algebra out and nicely dusted?” added Dumplin’.
“’Course I want to see the folks, but I don’t want to leave these old mountains,” Bennie answered. “I guess Spider and I will never forget old Jefferson. And say, Mr. Stone, don’t you forget you’re going to send us the movie films when they’re printed. We’ll have ’em at the Town Hall, for the benefit of the Boy Scouts.”