"I'm all right," Britton shouted back. "Laurance's cabin is my stop. The huskies will last."
"I insist," the girl cried, urging her animals so that they nosed the packs on Britton's sleigh.
"And I refuse," he called over his shoulder. "You shouldn't be on this trail anyway. It's not safe to travel alone. You're surely not mad enough to attempt a night trip?"
The girl straightened her shoulders haughtily, and the face, framed in a white-furred hood, took on a dignity which would have been lost on the man had not the physical beauty of the countenance forced its impression.
"Let me pass!" she tersely commanded, pulling her dogs into the powdery snow at one side of Britton's packed trail.
"Pass me, then," he said, a little nettled, and forced his team to topmost speed.
Invited into a race, the girl soon showed the mettle of herself and of her animals. Before Britton reached the river-arm, she drew abreast. The trail sloped downward, and the dogs had but little to stay their lope. The two teams raced side by side, the leaders snapping at each other.
"The two teams raced side by side, the leaders snapping at each other."
"They'll fight in a minute and pile us both up," the girl cried excitedly.