“But our automobile would beat ’em,” announced Tess confidently. “Neale O’Neil would drive it so fast that no wolf could catch us, Dot.”
“But we’re not in the automobile now,” said the littlest Corner House girl who, if the truth were known, loved to be thrilled.
“Sure not. We’re in a Russian sledge,” declared Sammy, his own excitement feeding on his vivid imagination. “And here come the wolves!”
“O-oo!” shrieked Dot. “Where?”
Sammy pointed dramatically into the deeper woods; but just where he pointed at that moment Neale O’Neil appeared with a heavy sack on his shoulder.
“That’s no wolf,” sighed Dot, disappointed. “It’s only Neale.”
“Well, it might have been a pack of wolves with a leader with slavering tongue.”
“Er—what’s that?” demanded the littlest girl, hearing another new word. “What do they do to ‘slaver’?”
“I—I——Oh, well, what does it matter? Wolves’ tongues always do that,” rejoined the small boy in some disgust. “Anyway, here they come!”
Dot murmured an appreciative and tremulous “o-oo!”