The boys rushed at once up the steps to the Tip Top House, secured their copies of Above the Clouds, and read Rob’s account of the storm, which the editor had cut down till it was only half what Rob had written, much to everybody’s indignation. While they were reading the paper, buying sweet chocolate and sending post-cards home, the clouds thinned out on the summit, and when, at eight o’clock, they again stepped out-of-doors, there seemed to be every prospect of a splendid day, with a gentle northerly wind to cool the air.
“Now, our objective point is the Madison Hut, over there to the northeast at the base of the summit cone of Madison,” said Mr. Rogers. “We’ll spend the night in the hut, and go down the next day to Randolph, through King’s Ravine, and catch a train home. There are two ways of getting there. One is to go over the Gulf Side Trail, along the summit ridge of the north peaks, the other, and much the harder way, is to descend into the Great Gulf and climb up again, either by the Six Husbands’ Trail, the Adams Slide Trail, or the trail up Madison from the Glen House.”
“Me for old Six Husbands!” cried Peanut.
“I want to go along the tops,” said Lou, “where you can see off all the time.”
“So do I,” said Frank.
“I’m for Peanut and the Six Husbands,” said Art.
“Suppose we split for the day,” Rob suggested. “I’ll go with one half, and you go with the other, Mr. Rogers.”
The Scout Master looked at the sky and the horizon. The day held every promise of fine weather, and he assented. “All right,” he said, “I’ll take Lou and Frank over the north peaks, and you take the others down the head wall of the Gulf, past Spaulding Lake and the Gulf camp, to the Six Husbands’ Trail, and then come directly up that to the Gulf Side Trail near the cone of Jefferson. When you reach the Gulf Side Trail, if the weather is clear, leave your packs by the path, and go on up to the top of Jefferson and signal to us. We’ll be waiting on the top of Adams, at four o’clock. If it’s not clear, come right along the Gulf Side to the hut.”
“Hooray! Signaling from one mountain peak to another! That’s going some!” cried Peanut.
“But why wait till four?” asked Art. “According to the map, we haven’t more than eight miles to go, half of it down-hill.”