Driving along the road a few minutes later, she glimpsed, far over the hills, a skier who descended the steep slope at breakneck speed.
“It’s a wonderful day for skiing!” she thought, recalling that all of her equipment was ready in the car. “Why don’t I make the most of it?”
Pulling up, Penny got out skis and poles. Hastily waxing the runners, she put them on and set off across the fields toward the distant hill.
The loose snow had blown into deep banks and crevasses. Penny frequently had been warned by more experienced skiers that visible crevasses nearly always were a warning of hidden ones.
At first as she raced along, she kept alert watch for unexpected breaks or depressions in the snow. But as she drew near the hills to the rear of the old monastery, she frequently shifted her gaze toward the interesting old building.
Smoke curled lazily from the hooded chimneys. Otherwise, the premises appeared unoccupied.
Then, Penny saw a bent figure coming from the rear of the grounds, pulling a long sled behind him.
“Why, it’s Winkey!” she recognized him. “Now what can he be doing with that sled? Surely at his age he isn’t going coasting.”
More than a little interested, the girl set her course the better to watch the hunchback. Soon she saw him striking off toward a pine woods and a large, two-story log cabin some distance away.
At the edge of the woods, not far from the cabin, had been stacked several cords of seasoned logs taken from the forest.