“My skis are hidden in the woods,” said Sara. “We’ll walk along the fence so my footprints won’t be so noticeable.”
“The place is pretty well marked up now,” Penny observed dryly. “Your grandfather would have to be blind not to see them.”
“Yes, but they’re your tracks, not mine,” grinned Sara. “Besides, this strong wind is starting to drift the snow.”
They followed the barbed wire fence to the woods. Sara went straight to an old log and from its hollow interior drew out a pair of hickory jumping skis.
“Let’s walk up to Mrs. Downey’s lodge,” she proposed. “Her chute is a dandy, but most of the guests are afraid to use it.”
“I haven’t tried it myself,” admitted Penny. “It looks higher than Pike’s Peak.”
“Oh, you have plenty of nerve,” returned Sara carelessly. “I saw you take Grandfather’s barbed wire entanglements.”
“That was a matter of necessity.”
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” laughed Sara, linking arms with Penny and pulling her along at a fast pace. “I’ll teach you a few tricks.”
They climbed the slope steadily until forced to pause for a moment to catch their breath.