Emerging finally into the open, Seabury shivered a little as the keen, searching wind struck him. It came from the northeast, and there was a chill, penetrating quality about it which promised more snow, and that soon. By the time Seabury had adjusted the leather harness to his feet and resumed his gloves, his fingers were blue and he needed no urging to set off at a swift pace.
In saying that he could skee, the boy had not exaggerated. He was, in fact, so perfectly at home upon the long, smooth, curved-up strips of ash, that he moved with the effortless ease and grace of one scarcely conscious of his means of locomotion. Watching him closely, Hedges' expression of critical appraisement changed swiftly to one of unqualified approval.
“You're not much good on them, are you?” he commented. “I suppose you can jump any old distance and do all sorts of fancy stunts.”
Seabury laughed. He was warm again and beginning to find an unwonted pleasure in the swift, gliding motion and the tingling rush of frosty air against his face.
“Nothing like that at all,” he answered. “I can jump some, of course, but I'm really not much good at anything except just straight-away going.”
“Huh!” grunted Hedges, sceptically. “I'll bet you could run circles around any of the fellows here. Well, what do you say to taking a little tramp. I've knocked around the grounds till I'm sick of them. Let's go up Hogan Hill,” he added, with a burst of inspiration.
Seabury promptly agreed, though inwardly he was not altogether thrilled at the prospect of such a climb. Hogan Hill rose steeply back of the school. A few hay-fields ranged along its lower level, but above them the timber growth was fairly thick, and Paul knew from experience that skeeing on a wooded slope was far from easy.
As it turned out, Hedges had no intention of tackling the steep slope directly. He knew of an old wood-road which led nearly to the summit by more leisurely twists and curves, and it was his idea that they take this as far as it went and then skee down its open, winding length.
By the time they were half-way up, Seabury was pretty well blown. It was the first time he had been on skees in nearly a year, and his muscles were soft from general lack of exercise. He made no complaint, however, and presently Hedges himself proposed a rest.
“I wish I could handle the things as easily as you do,” he commented. “I work so almighty hard that I get all in a sweat, while you just glide along as if you were on skates.”