we've got a good chance," proposed Major Henry. "What do you
say. Shall we vote on it?"

"How high is it?" asked Red Fox Scout Ward.

Major Henry looked at the map of the state. "Fourteen thousand, two
hundred and ten feet."

"Whew!" Scout Ward eyed it. "We'd certainly like to make it. That would
be a chance for an honor, eh, Van?"

"You bet," agreed Van Sant.

"He's sure some mountain," we said.

"We haven't any time to spare from the trail," went on Major Henry, "and
it would kill a day, to the top and back. So we ought to double up by
traveling by night, some. But that wouldn't hurt any; it would be fun,
by moonlight. Now, if you're ready, all who vote to take the Red Fox
Scouts and climb old Pilot Peak for a record hold up their right hands."

"We won't vote. Don't make the climb on our account," cried the Red Fox
Scouts.

"Let's do it. I've never been fourteen thousand feet, myself," declared
Fitz.

And we all held up our right hands.

"Bueno," quoth Major Henry. "Then we go. We'll climb Pilot and put in
extra time on the trail. Cache the stuff, police the camp, put out the
fire, take what grub we can in our pockets, and the sooner we start the
better."

Maybe we ought not to have done this. Our business was the message. We
weren't out for fun or for honors. We were out to carry that message
through in the shortest time possible. The climb was not necessary--and
I for one had a sneaking hunch that we were making a mistake. But I had
voted yes, and so had we all. If anybody had felt dubious, he ought to
have voted no.

In the next chapter you will read what we got, by fooling with a side
issue.

CHAPTER XVII

VAN SANT'S LAST CARTRIDGE

The way to climb a mountain is not to tackle it by the short, steep way,
but to go up by zigzags, through little gulches and passes. You arrive
about as quick and you arrive easier.

Now from camp we eyed Old Pilot, calculating. Major Henry pointed.

"We'll follow up that draw, first," he said. "Then we can cross over to
that ledge, and wind around and hit the long stretch, where the snow
patches are. After that, I believe, we can go right on up."

We had just rounded the lower end of the lake, and were obliquing off
and up for the draw, when we heard a funny bawly screech behind us, and
a clattering, and along at a gallop came Apache, much excited, and at a
trot joined our rear. He did not propose to be left alone! We were glad
enough to have him, if