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30 couldn't you take me along, Nina? I adore snow-shoeing, and this new doctor says that exercise is the best thing in the world for me."

"Of course! Why not?" said good-hearted, impulsive Nina Borst. Last year Ollie Bartlett herself was recovering from an appendix operation, and wasn't allowed to climb anything stiffer than a rolling cow pasture. Two operations wouldn't have kept Ollie from her yearly glimpse of Washington covered with snow, that she got from the carriage road on the way from the station to the hotel. Everybody did as he pleased in the Bartlett party. Edna could paddle about the fields and over the brooks by herself—and with her, Nina. Of course she couldn't do any of the real tramps. The men hated to be delayed on a climb by someone who wasn't in climbing condition.

"But I shall be there to say 'when' to you," Nina assured her.

But she wasn't! She wasn't there to say "when," nor "how," nor "which." She was in southern California, daily practicing the Australian crawl in warm Pacific waters, instead of in the heart of the White Mountains, saving Edna Miller from horrible mistakes, such as rhinestone buckles on high satin slippers, and a glimpse of pearls on a V-shaped bit of bare neck.