CHAPTER XVIII
THE AUTO ICE BOAT
Grace strode ahead so rapidly through the snow that Mollie was forced to ask her to moderate her pace.
"This isn't a race!" was the objection.
"But I want to stop them fighting!" insisted Grace. "Will gets so angry, sometimes, that he doesn't know what he is doing. Papa often said he'd do something desperate in his fits of temper some day. I'm really afraid."
"He's like me," laughed Mollie, frankly. "Only I just flare up for a second, and then I'm sorry for it."
"Oh, well, Will is too," admitted his sister, "but I don't want to give him a chance to be sorry. Come on!"
"If I come any faster you'll have to carry me," panted Mollie. "Remember that I am not a Gibson girl like you."
"Oh, do come!" begged Grace. "They may be rolling and tumbling about in the snow, biting each other——"