“Oh, fine! That’s a coming job, boys, but one that Joe can’t take, if he isn’t cured thoroughly. Think of this—your life out here is the best training you could have for the forest service. You can afford to miss six months of school to learn how to live in the big woods and the wild places. If you should camp with Mills till Christmas, say, you’d really be going to school, and Joe would be taking tonic twenty-four hours a day. Think it over, boys.”
That night, after dinner, which he again ate at the scouts’ camp, the tepee camp being again filled up with hikers, he paid Joe at the regular rate of three dollars a day for cooking his meals, and paid for the food, all except the dinner Joe had got ready the night of the first climb, which the scouts declared was their treat. Then he picked up his Alpine rope and handed it to Tom.
“How’d you like this for a souvenir?” he asked.
Tom gasped. “For me!” he exclaimed. “Oh, Dr. Kent, I—I—why, what’ll you do?”
“I’m taking the bus out in the morning,” the doctor said. “I’ve other ropes at home. You boys might like to do a little climbing. But promise me you’ll pick easy grades to learn on, unless Mills is with you.”
“Thank you!” Tom cried. “I—I never guessed I’d own a real Alpine rope. Feel of it, Joe—ain’t it soft?”
“I move we name this shack of ours Camp Kent,” said Joe.
“Carried!” Tom cried. “Camp Kent it is—and I guess we won’t forget whom it’s named for in a hurry, either.”
“Thanks, boys,” the doctor laughed. “And I won’t forget you. I wish I were going to stay here a month, and use the rope with you. But I’ve got to get back to the sick people who can’t come to the Park for a tonic. Good-bye—and good luck. Joe, keep up the good work—live out-of-doors, keep dry, don’t worry, and you’ll live to be ninety-nine. Tom—don’t forget to test your anchor stone! I’ll be out in the morning early, and get my grub at the hotel. Good-bye.”
“Good-bye,” the boys said.