“To be sure! ‘Low bridge!’ I’ve sailed enough on a catboat to know when to ‘duck,’ I hope,” returned Lettie.
“And we can sail with you, Dan?” Mildred was saying. “Do—do you think it will be safe?”
“Perfectly,” replied the older Speedwell. “Not, of course, when we race. We’ll carry only ballast, then, and one of us will have to stand on the outrigger to keep the boat from turning turtle——”
“Oh, that sounds dreadfully exciting!” gasped Lettie, her eyes shining.
“It sounds pretty dangerous,” observed Mildred. “You two boys are speed crazy, I believe! Burton Poole’s got a new car—have you seen it? He says it is a fast one.”
“Pooh!” returned Billy. “Burton’s got to get up awfully early in the morning to be in the same class with us.”
“Never mind the autos,” said Mildred, briskly. “We’ve got what we want, Lettie,” and she laughed. “Remember, boys! we’re to have first call on your iceboat when it is built.”
“Oh, yes! When it is built,” said her chum, laughing. “We’re all counting our chickens before they’re hatched.”
“You wait till a week from Saturday, Let,” said Billy, with confidence. “By that time we’ll have hatched a pretty good-sized chicken—eh, Dan?”
His brother would not promise; but that very night the boys drew plans for the ice racer they intended to build. Mr. Speedwell owned a valuable piece of timber, and the boys always had a few seasoned logs on hand. They selected the sticks they needed, sledded them to the mill, had them sawed right, and then set to work on the big barn floor and worked the sticks down with hand tools.