the "Marvelous Crystal Hills," as the White Mountains in New Hampshire
have been aptly termed.

Much time and thought had been spent in preparing properly for this
long vacation jaunt. Camp equipage had all been overhauled, and much
that would serve excellently where there was transport service had been
discarded for this journey into the hills.

Resting for a while after finishing supper, the girls began to make up
neat packs containing such bare equipment and food supplies as they
believed to be indispensable. Then there were the tent, blankets and
cooking utensils to be looked after. Of course, the guide would carry
much of this dunnage, yet our girls were no weaklings, and no one of
them expected to shirk carrying her fair share of the load.

It was after nine o'clock when Harriet and her chums finished the
making-up of the packs. Soon after a clerk knocked on the door of Miss
Elting's room.

"There's a man below who wishes to speak with you," the clerk informed
her.

"It must be Mr. Grubb," guessed the guardian, and left her packing to
go downstairs. She glanced into the lobby of the hotel; then, not
seeing Janus there, stepped into the parlor. A man, a stranger, was
sitting near a door that led out to the hotel veranda. In the light of
the kerosene lamp that hung suspended from the ceiling she was not able
to make out his features at first. She saw that he wore a heavy black
beard, that he was rather roughly dressed, but that his hands were
white.