CHAPTER XXII

THE ICE BOAT

Fordham Hill was over a mile long, and it was so wide that several big bobsleds could go down abreast. Thus a race could be going on, and independent coasting could be indulged in at the same time.

“Let me steer, Jerry,” begged Ned, for the tall lad had taken his place at the wheel.

“Why do you want to steer?”

“I want to beat that sneak, that’s why! He thinks he’s all there is, with his bunch of girls from town. I’m going to beat him!”

“All right,” Jerry assented. “Only look out for yourself, that’s all. I’ve heard of Frank’s bob. It’s a fast one, and he knows how to handle it. Ours is a bit stiff.”

“Oh, I’ll beat him all right. You get the crowd aboard.”

It was perhaps but natural that Ned should wish to win against his enemy, and Frank was Ned’s enemy rather than that of either Bob or Jerry.

“Pile on! Get your places!” yelled Bart. “Here’s where we win the hot chocolates!”

“Get ready, boys!” called Jerry, who went to the rear of the bobsled, there to handle the brake lever. For the big bobsleds had brakes--a sort of spike that dug down in the snow and retarded the progress of the sled. Frank’s bobsled was similarly equipped, and Bill Hamilton was to be the brakesman.

A number of girls from Fordham, whom Jerry, Ned and Bob had met at dances, took their places on the sled of our heroes. There were about the same number of boys as girls on Frank’s coaster also.

Several lads volunteered to push off, and for a time there was more interest in the race than in the other coasting.

“All ready?” asked Bart of Jerry, from the rear where he sat.

“All ready,” Jerry answered.

“Push!” cried Bart.

“Push!” echoed Jerry.

The boys behind the two bobsleds exerted their strength, and the long coasters, with their loads of laughing, shouting and merry boys and girls, began to move slowly. Once over the crest of the hill they gathered momentum, until they were shooting down the moonlit streak of ice and snow at ever increasing speed.

In places water had been poured over the snow, and this in freezing had added a glair that increased the speed of the sleds.

A coasting race is a peculiar one. Given two sleds of exactly the same size, with equally polished runners, and with weights nearly the same, start them at the same time, and one will get to the bottom of the hill ahead of the other.

Try it again, and the results may be reversed. Just why this is so it is hard to say, unless it is that the winning sled may, without the knowledge of the rider, strike more slippery places than the other. Of course, weight has something to do with it, once the sleds are started, the more heavily laden one acquiring greater momentum. But sometimes even that may not count.

The bobsled of our heroes and that of Frank Watson were about evenly weighted, but, as Jerry had said, the steering gear of theirs was a little stiff, while their rival had a new sled in excellent condition.

“But we’ll beat him,” said Ned to Bob, who sat behind him.

“I hope so,” agreed Chunky.

So far the sleds were on even terms, almost in a straight line with one another. Then, as the slope of the hill became steeper, Frank gradually forged ahead.

“He’s going to win,” said Bob.

“The race isn’t over yet,” muttered Ned, yet he was a bit doubtful now as to the outcome.

“Come on there! Come on!” shouted those on Frank’s sled to those on the other. “Come on, we’re leaving you behind!”

“We’re coming!” shrilly cried the girls on the second bobsled.

“We’ll tell them that when we reach the bottom of the hill,” answered their rivals.

Farther and farther ahead forged Frank’s sled. It was half a length in the lead now, and though Ned tried to pick out the smoothest and slipperiest places, he could not gain anything.

Then, suddenly, without any apparent reason for it, unless it was that it came to a glair in the ice, Frank’s bobsled shot swiftly ahead, until, in a few seconds, it was leading by two lengths.

“Oh you hot chocolates!” taunted the leaders, laughingly.

And then, still apparently for no reason, Frank sent his sled, which was on the right of Ned’s, diagonally across the course, in front of the sled behind, a rather dangerous proceeding.

“What’s he doing that for?” cried Ned. “Brakes there, Jerry, or we’ll run into him!”

Jerry jammed down the brakes, and only just in time, for their bobsled seemed suddenly to acquire new speed, and it almost crashed into the one ahead.

There was a scraping in the hard snow, which flew up in a shower behind, and several of the girls screamed. Then Ned cried:

“All right! Off brakes! Now we’ll beat him!”

For Ned saw on the course Frank had chosen to abandon, a long stretch of hard, icy snow, and he knew that his vehicle could acquire speed and momentum over there.

In a moment he steered for it, so that the positions of the sleds were reversed, Ned’s being on the right hand side going down.

On and on raced the sleds. That of the three chums was rapidly overtaking the rival coaster.

“Frank thought he’d get on an icier place by cutting across that way,” said Ned to Bob. “But he missed his guess. We’re going to win now.”

“I wish I could think so.”

“We are; you watch!”

And as Bob and the others behind him looked, they saw Ned skillfully hold to the icy course. It gave them more speed, which seemed to be constantly on the increase. They were now so close to Frank’s bob that he dared not cut across again, had he so desired.

“Here we go!” cried Ned, as, having passed over a place where loose snow retarded them a bit, they shot out on to a spot that was solid ice. “Here’s where we win!”

And win they did. For a moment later the bottom of the slope was reached with Ned’s bobsled well in advance, and as there was only a straight course left on which to bring up, there was no chance for Frank to acquire further speed.

“We win! We win!” cried the boys on Ned’s vehicle, as they got off when the sled came to a stop. “We win!”

“Oh you hot chocolates!” shrilled the girls at their less lucky companions.

“Does whipped cream go with it, Bart?” asked one of the winning girls.

“Well, seeing that you whipped us, so to speak, I guess it does,” admitted Frank’s chum. The latter said nothing, but there was a glum look on his face as he got up from the steering wheel. He was a poor loser.

“As headstrong as ever,” thought Jerry. “I wish something would happen to change him. If he keeps on holding a grudge against us this way we won’t stand any chance on the baseball nine, for, as captain, Frank has nearly all the say there.”

With shouts and laughter the victors chaffed the vanquished, and then they made their way to the Band Box, the most popular confectionery and ice cream store in Fordham, and there hot chocolates and cake were provided by the losers for their more fortunate rivals.

It was a good-natured, jolly crowd, all save Frank, and he was pleasant enough with every one but the three Cresville chums.

“Why don’t you fellows mix in with them a bit?” asked Jake Porter of Frank, Bart and Bill a little later.

“Because I don’t want to,” said Frank. “We agreed that they’d try to run things here, and they have. They’re too fresh. And you were one of those, Jake, to agree to snub ’em. Now you’re sticking up for ’em.”

“I know; but I’ve found out they aren’t half bad. They’re real jolly.”

“I like Jerry all right,” confessed Bart. “He did me a good turn. Maybe it’s time to make better friends with them, Frank.”

“Not for me! You fellows can do what you like!” exclaimed the headstrong youth.

“Ned and Bob are all right, too,” said Bill Hamilton. “I was broke the other day and Bob lent me some money.”

“And you took it?” asked Frank, sharply.

“Of course. Why not?”

“Why didn’t you come to me?”

“You weren’t around, and I wasn’t going to cut off my nose to spite my face. I think maybe we made a mistake, Frank.”

“Well, I don’t. I’ll not make friends with ’em!”

The coasting was over, and as the boys returned to college with their sled, Jerry remarked:

“Well, you did beat him, Ned. It was a clever piece of work.”

“I’d like to beat him more ways than one, the cad!”

“You’ll never get anywhere feeling that way about Frank.”

“I don’t want to get anywhere with _him_. I want to be in a position to prove he gave away the picture game and then I’ll go for him.”

There came a thaw. The snow disappeared, and there followed a period of warmer weather and rain. Then it became cold again, so cold that Lake Carmona was frozen over solidly, and there was the best skating that had been enjoyed in years, so some of the older students declared.

Ned, Bob and Jerry were on the ice one afternoon enjoying the sport, when Jerry, who had been quiet for some time, burst out with:

“I think I’ll do it if you fellows will go in with me.”

“What’s he talking about now?” asked Bob.

“Oh, this is all right,” Jerry went on. “I was thinking aloud, I guess. I heard of a fellow who has an ice-boat for sale up the lake. What do you say to our buying it, or hiring it, and having some fun? It’s lots of sport.”

“Let’s go and see the ice-boat first,” suggested Ned practically.

“Come on,” cried Jerry.