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Aldridge, Janet

"The Missing Pilot of the White Mountains"


We'll have to rest hanging on by our eyelids after this," declared
Janus.
"No more mountain climbing for me," declared Margery.
"This is nothing," chuckled the guide. "Wait until you climb Mt.
Washington."
"Wait until I do!" nodded Margery with emphasis.
"That is to be our next," Miss Elting informed them. "By the time we
have finished that I think we shall be seasoned mountain climbers."
"Yeth. And we'll have the habit so badly that we'll be climbing
telephone poleth every day when we get home," averred Tommy. "I withh
my father could thee me now. He wouldn't thay hith little girl wath
lathy, would he?"
Janus got up and walked out where he could look about him. He stood
stroking his whiskers reflectively, glancing critically at the rocks
above; then along a narrow, barely indicated trail around the side of
the mountain. He turned on his heel and returned to where his party
lay stretched out on the rocks. There were rents in their clothing,
their boots were scratched and cut from contact with sharp points of
rocks, and the faces of the Meadow-Brook Girls were red and perspiring.


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