CHAPTER VIII
A MAGIC TRIP
“Maybe it was just Helen you heard, Chess,” chuckled Ruth, and Helen gazed at her chum reproachfully.
“Do you mean to say that I am wild, Ruthie? How can you? Why, there never was a meeker, more down-trodden——”
“Write it on the ice!” suggested Chess in atrocious slang that Helen did not even deign to notice.
To prevent one of the good-natured squabbles that so often took place between these two, Ruth immediately began to talk about their prospects.
“It seems a long enough journey to Seattle,” she said. “But really that’s only about the first stage of the journey.”
“Four days and three nights, isn’t it?” asked Helen.
“The flyer makes it in a little better time,” said Tom. “But it’s approximately that.”
“Then we meet the others of the company,” said Ruth, “and take the steamer for St. Michael. That’s the chief distributing center, you know. There we’ll have to take a smaller steamer for the rest of the way.”
“That’s the part I’ll love,” cried Helen enthusiastically. “It’s always so much more fun to travel by ship than overland.”