"Oh, yes; let me try. I drive our teams."
She took the lines, and at Milton's suggestion wound them around her hands. She looked very pretty with the moon shining on her face, her eyes big and black with excitement, and Milton immediately put his arm around her and laid his head on her shoulder.
"Milton Jennings, you don't"——
"Look out," he cried in mock alarm, "don't you drop those lines!" He gave her a severe hug.
"Milton Jennings, you let go me!"
"That's what you said before."
"Take these lines."
"Can't do it," he laughed; "my hands are cold. Got to warm them, see?" He pulled off his mitten and put his icy hand under her chin. The horse was going at a tremendous pace again.
"O-o-o-oh! If you don't take these lines I'll drop 'em, so there!"
"Don't y' do it," he called warningly, but she did, and boxed his ears soundly while he was getting Marc in hand again. Bettie's rage was fleeting as the blown breath from Marc's nostrils, and when Milton turned to her again all was as if his deportment had been grave and cavalier.