“I forgot, who’s left?”
“The Spartan.”
“Never!” objected Betty strenuously, “it can’t be—why, we’d no sooner get to the river than her feet would be cold, or her nose or her hands, and we’d have to turn back; besides, she doesn’t skate.”
“All the better,” Lois said; “we can build her a nice little fire and make her quite comfy on shore, out of the breeze, and then leave her.”
“Now, Bet, don’t be so particular, she’s our only hope,” reminded Polly.
After a good deal of persuasive arguing, Betty finally consented, and they started off to ask the other girls.
They found Angela and Connie coasting on the big hill.
“Wait a second, you two,” Betty called to them.
They pulled their sleds off the track into a snow bank and came over to her.
“What do you want?” asked Connie; “isn’t the coasting great?”