Smith and Jerome’s Shoes.
“There,” he cried, “that’s the motor I came up in! Good ad. for old Smith and Jerome, eh? Might as well advertise our Southmead storekeepers.”
The man with the bugle, who was standing behind the boys, peeked over at the register, and roared with laughter.
“You’re all right, kid!” he said. “I wish the motor parties could see it. It would serve ’em right for boasting about owning a car. Besides, that’s the lazy loafer’s way of climbing a mountain. If I were boss, I’d dynamite the carriage road and the railroad, and then nobody could get here but folks who knew how to walk.”
“You’re like the man on Moosilauke,” said Lou.
“I’m like all true mountaineers,” he answered.
“And Scouts,” said Peanut.
Rob had now finished a brief account of their adventure on the Crawford Bridle Path, and the proprietor went up-stairs to find out the name of the man they had rescued. The girl’s name they already knew.
“Don’t say we rescued them, Rob,” Mr. Rogers cautioned. “Say they overtook us at Monroe, and we all went on together, because we had blankets and provisions.”
“That’s what I have said,” laughed Rob. “But it doesn’t alter the facts.”