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.
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.
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.
“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.