"It was strange, indeed!" said Molly, with twinkling eyes. "Have you been skating, Mr. Maynard?"
"Part of the time. But the rest of the time I was organizing and assisting a rescue party to save those foolish children I was just telling you of."
"We were foolish!" cried Marjorie, jumping up and running to her father's arms. "I'll never do it again, Daddy, dear."
"Indeed you won't, my lady. I hereby issue a mandamus, a fiat, a writ,—and if you don't know what those things are, I'll say a plain every-day rule that is not to be broken,—that you are never to play 'Snap the Whip' again. This is a rule for Marjorie, and to you, Molly, it's a piece of advice."
"I'll take it," said Molly, so meekly that Mr. Maynard smiled, and said:
"Now that incident is closed, and we needn't mention it again. I don't believe you'll even take cold from your sudden plunge, for you both ran home like killdeer. And, by the way, who won the prize?"
"We came in almost exactly together," said Marjorie. "I was a little bit ahead at the door, but Molly was first at the gate, so isn't that even?"
"It surely is, and so you must both have prizes. I haven't them with me at the moment, but I'll engage to supply them before Molly goes home."
Thanksgiving evening was given over to games and quiet frolics.
Mrs. Maynard said the children had had enough excitement for one day, and they must play only sitting-still games, and then go to bed early. So Mr. Maynard proposed a game in which all could join, and when it was finished it would be bedtime for young people.