“What a strange sled,” said Marian as they cut across the path of the two men.
“Sled seems heavy,” remarked Florence. “At least one would think it was by the way they slip and slide as they pull it.”
They had passed a hundred yards beyond that spot when Florence turned to glance back.
“Why! Look!” she exclaimed. “There’s a man sitting on the ice, back there a hundred yards or so.”
“One of the men with the sled?”
“No, there they go.”
“Some skater tightening his strap.”
“Wasn’t one in sight a moment ago. Tell you what,” Florence exclaimed; “let’s circle back!”
Marian was not keen for this adventure, but accompanied her companion without comment.
Nothing really came of it, not at that time. The man sat all humped over on the ice, as if mending a broken skate. He did not move nor look up. Florence thought she saw beside him a somewhat bulky package but could not quite tell. His coat almost concealed it, if, indeed, there was a package.