Part 8 (2/2)
Directly ahead loomed a barbed wire fence. There was no opportunity to turn aside. Penny knew that she must jump or take a disastrous fall.
Swinging her poles forward, she let them drop in the snow close to her ski tips. Crouching low she sprang upward with all her strength. The sticks gave her leverage so that she could lift her skis clear of the snow. Momentum carried her forward over the fence.
Penny felt the jar of the runners as they slapped on the snow. Then she lost her balance and tumbled head over heels.
Untangling herself, she sat up and gazed back at the barbed wire fence.
”I wish all my friends at Riverview could have seen that jump!” she thought proudly. ”It was a beauty even if I did land wrong side up.”
A large painted sign which had been fastened to the fence, drew her attention. It read: ”Skiers Keep Out.”
”I wonder if that means me?” remarked Penny aloud.
”Yes, it means you!” said an angry voice behind her.
Penny rolled over in the snow, waving her skis in the air. She drew in her breath sharply. An old man with a dark beard had stepped from the shadow of the pine trees, a gun grasped in his gnarled hands!
CHAPTER 6 _PENNY TRESPa.s.sES_
”Can't you understand signs?” the old man demanded, advancing with cat-like tread from the fringe of pine trees.
”Not when I'm traveling down a mountain side at two hundred miles an hour!” Penny replied. ”Please, would you mind pointing that cannon in some other direction? It might go off.”
The old man lowered the shotgun, but the grim lines of his wrinkled, leathery face did not relax.
”Get up!” he commanded, prodding her with the toe of his heavy boot. ”Get out of here! I won't have you or any other skier on my property.”
”Then allow me to make a suggestion,” remarked Penny pleasantly. ”Put up another strand of barbed wire and you'll have them all in the hospital!”
She sat up, gingerly felt of her left ankle and then began to brush snow from her jacket. ”Did you see me make the jump?” she asked. ”I took it just like a reindeer. Or do I mean a gazelle?”
”You made a very awkward jump!” he retorted. ”I could have done better myself.”
Penny glanced up with genuine interest. ”Oh, do you ski?”
By this time she no longer was afraid of the old man, if indeed she had ever been.
”No, I don't ski!” he answered impatiently. ”Now hurry up! Get those skis off and start moving! I'll not wait all day.”
Penny began to unstrap the long hickory runners, but with no undue show of haste. She glanced curiously about the snowy field. An old shed stood not far away. Beside it towered a great stack of wood which reached nearly as high as the roof. Through the trees she caught a glimpse of a weather-stained log cabin with smoke curling lazily from the brick chimney.
As Penny was regarding it, she saw a flash of color at one of the windows. A girl who might have been her own age had her face pressed against the pane. Seeing Penny's gaze upon her, she began to make motions which could not be understood.
The old man also turned his head to look toward the cabin. Immediately, the girl disappeared from the window.
”Is that where you live?” inquired Penny.
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