“Why don’t we go?” growled Mr. Parker. “Runners dull?”
Penny gave the boat a hard push.
“Want me to help?” offered her father.
“No, thanks,” puffed Penny. “When this baby makes up its mind, it will go so fast you’d be left behind.”
Once more she pushed. The sail filled again and the runners stirred.
“It’s moving!” shouted Penny.
The Icicle was pulling away from her. She clung fast, trying to scramble aboard. [Her feet went out from under her and she was dragged over the ice.]
“Hang on!” shouted Mr. Parker. “I can’t sail this thing alone!”
Penny clung desperately. Away flew a mitten. Her scarf flapped in her face. With a supreme effort, she pulled herself aboard, and took command of the tiller.
“Are you hurt?” Mr. Parker shouted anxiously in her ear.