“In other words, first make sure you’re right and then take the other way,” said Lawrence Upton, laughing.
“You’d make a good explorer, Miss Molly,” remarked Andy McLean. “You might discover the South Pole and think all the time it was the North Pole.”
“That would be of great benefit to humanity,” answered Molly, “but you may be sure I’d stop and ask a policeman before I reached the equator.”
“It’s your proper punishment for cutting church this morning,” here put in George Green. “I don’t know whether it was because it was a good excuse to go sleighing, but a lot of people were at the ten service. Even old Edwin came in the trail of Alice Fern.”
“What a pretty name!” said Molly. “It sounds so woodsy.”
“She’s a cousin,” George went on, “and a winner, too. They’ve got a jim-dandy place ten miles the other side of Wellington, Fern Grove. We spent last New Year’s with them and had a cracker-jack time.”
“George Theodore Green!” ejaculated Judy, “I never heard so much slang. I wonder you are allowed inside Exmoor.”
“Oh, I cut it out there. I only use it when it’s safe.”
“I regard that as a slight on present company,” broke in Andy. “I think you’ll just have to take a little dose of punishment for that, Dodo. Get busy, Larrie.”
There was a wild scramble in the snow, and finally Dodo, who had developed into a big, strapping fellow, stronger than either of his friends, intrenched himself behind a tree and began throwing snowballs with the unerring aim of the best pitcher on the Exmoor team. Molly hastened on to the Quadrangle, while Judy with true sportsman taste waited to see the fun.