How often she had wished she might read that woman’s thoughts. Did she sometimes think of the missing copper kettle and the seven golden candlesticks? If so, what did she think? What was in her mind as she stood for a long time staring at the great stump?
“We’ll get away from here,” the girl thought at last. “We’ll go back to our snug cabin and the joys of winter. How peaceful and secure we shall be. Let the wind roar. We shall be snug and warm.
“And Sunday! What a day that will be! The Petersons with the twins will come over in a bobsled, and the Dawsons in their home-made cutter. The Sabins have a dog team. What sings we shall have!
“Mark!” she exclaimed. “It’s too bad you had to give up training your dogs.” Mark had befriended five shaggy dogs deserted by settlers gone back to the States.
“Be back to the dogs before you know it. Besides,” Mark laughed a low, merry laugh, “there’s the cat. What the dogs can’t do, the cat can.” (He was speaking of his caterpillar tractor. They called these “cats” for short.)
“Yes,” Mary joined in the laugh. “But it will be truly thrilling to have a dog team. Wish we had it right now. Then if everything went wrong we could drive out.”
“Yes, but everything won’t go wrong.” Mark rose and yawned sleepily. “You’ll see.”
“Will we see?” the girl asked herself as, a quarter of an hour later, she crept beneath heavy blankets to lie down upon a bed of sweet-scented boughs. She knew their plans in a general sort of way. The gray plane carried skis. The blue and gray one had none. Mark and the pilots would work on the disabled motor of the blue and gray. If they got it working they would make skis for it. The two planes would take off on skis as soon as the ice was safe.
“A ticket to adventure,” she whispered. “When and how will our adventure end? Ah, well, Mr. McQueen says that so long as our adventure comes in the line of duty, Providence will see us through, so surely there is nothing to fear.” With this comforting thought, she fell asleep.