“Well, she did that time,” admitted Sobel, doubtfully.
“My goodness me!” the friends heard the Central High dandy exclaim. “I weally wouldn’t want to travel any faster, Ira. I—I haven’t weally got my breath yet!”
“Oh, I say!” cried another voice from the iceboat, and they recognized Lily Pendleton’s. “What do you think about the prize? Did you hear?”
“Why, they haven’t decided on the best play yet, have they?” returned Jess, eagerly, and before her chum could speak.
“No, But I heard they’d put it all into Mr. Monterey’s hands. He’s the manager of the Opera House, you know. And mother is very well acquainted with him. You girls laughed at my play——”
“Not I, Lily,” interrupted Laura, good-naturedly. “I was too afraid that the rest of you might have a chance to laugh at mine.”
“Well, I bet I’ve a good chance to win. Mr. Monterey is real nice, and mother is going to see him.”
“Pooh!” exclaimed Chet. “She’s one of those people who think influence brings things about. Don’t you be worried, girls; I bet Mr. Sharp won’t let anybody get that prize through favoritism.”
“That’s very encouraging, Chet,” said Jess. “But perhaps Lily will win it. You know, she goes to plays more than any other girl in the Junior class of Central High, that’s true. And she reads novels—real silly ones. Maybe she knows how to write just what would please a theatrical manager.”
“Pooh!” said Laura, “I’m not giving up all hope yet—especially because of Lil Pendleton’s say-so.”
“Now, look out!” shouted Lance. “All ready to go back, Chet?”
“Start her!” exclaimed his chum, “Cling tight, girls—and take a good breath. I want to time this trip. It’s all of nine miles to the starting point and we’ll show you——”
His voice trailed off and the girls did not hear the rest of his speech. The big propeller-wings began to beat the air, and the sound rose to a keen buzzing. Chet snapped his watch back into his pocket, raised his hand, and the iceboat tore ahead.
In twenty seconds the wind rushed past them so that the girls were forced to bend their heads. The way was clear and Lance had “let her out.” Chet bent sidewise watching the ice through his goggles. Occasionally he screamed an order to his chum, who signaled with his hand that he heard and understood.