And that evening they were suddenly landed out of the lonely snow-fields and the wilderness of rocks and cliffs and frozen lakes, of deer and lions and avalanches, into the hot, musty smell of a Pullman sleeping car, on the trans-continental limited, bound east!
They each took one sniff, and looked at one another.
Then Tom laughed. “We’ll get used to it again,” he said.
“I suppose so,” Joe answered, “but gosh! it’s going to be hard work.”
CHAPTER XXXI—Home Again—Joe’s Christmas Present to His Mother is Sound Health Again, and Tom Rejoices
They got to Chicago the day before Christmas, and had time to go shopping for presents. Tom sneaked off by himself, and returned with a mysterious parcel, which Joe imagined was for him. Twenty-five hours later, they were getting out of the train at Southmead, into the arms of their parents and brothers and sisters, and amid the cheers of the assembled scouts.
“Well, you are certainly a hard looking pair!” Mr. Rogers laughed. “And hard feeling, too,” he added, poking Joe’s legs and arms. “What do you weigh, Joe?”
“I weighed a hundred and fifty-nine in Chicago,” Joe answered.
The next two days both boys spent telling everybody the tales of their adventures, and Mr. Rogers took Joe up to Dr. Meyer again, who thumped him and listened at him as before, weighed him and tested him, and then, with a smile, declared he was as fit as a fiddle.
“And mind you live outdoors till you’re twenty-one, and keep so!” he added. “And then go on living outdoors if you can, till you’re a hundred and one. It’s the only way to live, anyhow. I haven’t been out for a week, and I know!”