were too many skaters and sleighs on the ice down here to make ice-boating either safe or pleasurable.
"My goodness me! Wasn't that fun?" gasped Jess.
"Felt like you was traveling some, eh?"
"Oh, Chet! it was great!"
"It certainly is a fine boat, Bobby," agreed Laura. "You and Launcelot have done well."
"Wait!" said Lance, warningly.
"Wait for what?" demanded Laura.
"We didn't travel that time. We were only preparing you—warming her up, as it were. Wait till we let her out."
"My goodness!" cried Jess. "Can you go faster?"
"We'll show you, going home," said Chet.
Just then the boat with the green and red light swooped down upon them and a voice shouted:
"What kind of a contraption is that you've got there, Belding?"
"Hullo!" exclaimed Chet. "That's Ira Sobel's yacht. Ira is Purt Sweet's cousin." Then he answered: "Oh, this is a little rigging of my own, Mr. Sobel. But she can travel. Rather beat's your Nighthawk, eh?"
"Well, she did that time," admitted Sobel, doubtfully.
