“You reason in a very strange way,” replied Penny coldly.
Picking up her skis she shouldered them and marched stiffly away. She was angry at Francine and angry at herself for having given the rival reporter an opportunity to score against her. Probably she would never tell Harvey Maxwell or Ralph Fergus who the girl actually was, sorely as she might be tempted. As Francine had pointed out, her own chance of gleaning any worth while information had been lost.
“It’s a bitter pill to choke down,” thought Penny, “but I would rather have the Record get the story than to lose it altogether.”
Sunk deep in depression, she tramped back to the Downey lodge. The mail had arrived during her absence but there was no letter from home.
“Dad might at least send me a postcard,” she grumbled. “For two cents I would take the next plane back to Riverview.”
However, Penny could not remain downhearted for any great length of time. Why worry about Francine and the silly old Green Room? She would forget all about it and try to have fun for a change.
It was not difficult to dismiss the matter from her mind, for the following morning Sara Jasko came to give her a lesson in bob-sled driving. With a crowd of interested guests watching from the sidelines, they made their first exciting ride over the track. Sara steered, Jake operated the brake, and Penny rode as sole passenger.
Horseshoe Curve was the most thrilling point on the course. As the sled tore around it at a tremendous rate of speed, Jake dug in the iron claw of the brake, sending up a plume of snow. They slackened speed perceptibly, but even so the sled climbed high on the sloping wall, and Penny thought for an anxious moment that they were going over the top. The remainder of the run was mild by comparison.
Upon later trips Penny was allowed to manage the brake, and soon became dexterous in applying it as Sara shouted the command.
Skiers abandoned the slopes to watch the new sport. Two at a time, Penny and Sara gave them rides and all of their passengers were enthusiastic.