Make all the noise you can!
Don't go down the slope, but keep to the summit."
"Now where?" asked Frank, as they walked over the rocks and wound
around jutting crags. "If you'll give me time I'll take some
moonlight pictures for Dad's newspapers. He must be expecting some by
this time!"
"Poor old Dad!" laughed Ned. "By this time he must have given up
sitting around the New York postoffice, waiting for your pictures to
come!"
"I'm going to send him some on this trip, sure!" declared the boy.
"He deserves them, you know, and his newspaper needs them! Besides,
we are planning another Boy Scout trip, and I shall want a whole lot
of money!"
"I see!" cried Ned. "You are casting an anchor to windward!"
"In other words," grinned Frank, "I'm laying the foundation for
another appropriation! I'm going to send on some of the pictures of
the counterfeiters' den!"
The summit of the ridge was by no means a level pathway. There were
peaks, canyons, gulleys and twistings to east and west which caused
the boys to travel two miles or more for every mile they advanced
toward the point where the two men Jack had followed had taken
refuge.
It was about two o'clock in the morning when they came in sight of
the chimney rock which Ned had noted on the trip of the afternoon.
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