“And now,” the doctor added, “she’s got to be carried to the nearest point on the railroad. Jim, you start along now to the summit house, and telephone down for a train to be sent up immediately. We’ll get her to the track at the point where the West Side Trail crosses, just below the Gulf tank.”
“How far is it?” asked the Scouts.
“Two miles,” the doctor answered, “but we can do it all right. You boys have done enough to-day. We are going that way anyhow, and you are going the other.”
“Couldn’t we take her to the Madison Hut?” asked Frank.
“That would be a great help!” the doctor said. “How would we get her down the mountain from there?”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” said Frank.
Meanwhile, one of the four men had picked up his pack again and was striding rapidly down the trail toward Clay, headed for Mount Washington and the telephone. The other three trampers, and the man who had been lost with the women, made a new stretcher of their staffs and coats, put the woman on it, and started after him.
The Scouts begged to help, but the doctor said no.
“Twice a day over the Gulf Side is enough for boys of your age,” he declared. “We can get on all right. You go back to the hut—and take it easy, too.”
The man and both the women who had been rescued said goodbye to Peanut, Rob and Art over and over, shaking their hands till the boys grew embarrassed.