LOST OR WON?
It was one thing for the boys on the _Buster_ to wish to range
alongside of the _Whistler_ again, but it was quite a different thing
to do it.
Both toboggans were rushing along with furious speed, and now the end
of the course was close at hand.
“Sit jess a little moah to de front,” was Pickles’ suggestion, and it
was immediately acted upon.
“Didn’t I tell you you wasn’t in it?” shouted Pete Sully, derisively.
“There isn’t a toboggan around Rudskill can beat the _Whistler_!” put
in Bill Dixon.
On and on went the two toboggans. The last little rise was passed and
the speed began to slacken.
Suddenly the _Whistler_ struck a snag--the dead limb of a tree, which
was half-hidden in the snow.
It quickly swerved out of its course, directly in the path of the
oncoming _Buster_.
“Get out of the way!” shouted Jack Bascoe, who was, as usual, in the
front. “Turn her around, Sully!”
“Don’t run into us!” shrieked several on board of the _Whistler_. “To
the right! To the right!”
Those on the _Buster_ tried to do as advised, not only for the sake of
their rivals, but also to save themselves. But it was too late to do
much. The _Buster_ swung around a trifle, and then came up sideways
with a bang, and out into the snow flew every one of the boys on both
toboggans.
Fortunately, no one was seriously hurt, although several faces and
hands were scratched, and Pickles got a bruise in the shin, his one
weak spot. All were soon on their feet, and the toboggans were dragged
to one side, out of the way of any that might be following.
“What did you mean by running into us?” demanded Pete Sully, hotly, as
he stalked up to Harry.
“What could we do when you blocked up the course?” retorted the owner
of the _Buster_.
“We didn’t block up the course!”
“You certainly did,” interposed Jack. “You ought to be thankful that we
didn’t run right over you.”
“It wasn’t fair!”
“It was fair,” said Harry. “But I’ll tell you what was not fair--tying
that wash-line under my toboggan, and that’s just what one of your
crowd did.”
“What’s that?” growled Bill Dixon. “We didn’t touch your confounded
bread-shovel.”
“Some one tied that rope on,” said Andy, picking up the line in
question. “It smells like your rope, Longman,” he went on, to a boy
whose father was the captain of a schooner on the river. “It’s a
regular tarred line.”
“See here, because you lost the race, you needn’t claim a foul!”
growled Sully, wrathfully. “You may think----”
“Lose the race!” came in a chorus from those who had rode upon the
_Buster_.
“We lost no race!” added Jack, vigorously.
“Yes, you did.”
“I certainly don’t see it.”
“You ran into us, and that gives us the race,” said Bill Dixon.
“Not by a jugful,” exclaimed Harry. “We were on the left, where we
belonged. Had you kept to the right----”
“You’d have been all right,” finished Boxy. “Come on up the hill and
try it over again.”
“I won’t do it,” returned Sully, sourly. “It’s my race.”
“He won’t race because we’ve found out about that rope,” said Harry,
growing angry. “I’m going to tell the crowd about it as soon as we get
to the top of the hill.”
“Do you mean to say that I placed that rope under your toboggan?”
blustered Sully, stepping up to him with clinched fists.
“One of your crowd did,” returned Harry. “It was put there for the sole
purpose of keeping us back.”
“If you say I put it there, I’ll hammer you!”
“You heard what I said. I am not prepared to say more--just now. You
may hear from me later.”
Thus talking, the two crowds made their way to the top of the hill.
Here they found an excited group of boys waiting for them.
“Did the _Whistler_ win?” cried several.
“Certainly we won!” replied Sully.
“It was no race,” explained Jack. “They struck a snag, and we ran into
them while they were on our side of the course.”
“Somebody said that Dixon boy tied a rope under your toboggan,”
remarked the gentleman who held the two pocket-knives, to Harry. “Did
you find anything wrong?”
“We did!” cried the boy. “Here is the rope. Who saw Dixon do it?”
The question was passed around, and it finally leaked out that three
boys in the crowd had seen the sneaking action performed. Dixon had
taken the rope from Longman’s sled, and this Longman was finally forced
to admit.
“No race,” said the stakeholder, promptly. “I will give both boys their
pocket-knives. Dixon, you ought to be ruled off the slide,” he added to
the bully’s toady.
“I don’t care, I claim that race,” said Sully, loudly. “I don’t care a
rap about the pocket-knife. It’s not half as good as my own.”
Harry wanted to try again, but the bully declined, saying it was
getting late, and he was expected home. In reality, Sully was afraid to
race fairly.
“We’ll try our good points at the skating races day after to-morrow,”
he said to Harry. “You mustn’t forget that I am in the five-mile race
against you and Jack Bascoe, and Milne and the rest.”
“I have a good memory,” returned Harry, pointedly. “And you can rest
assured that we’ll look out for any more rope tricks,” and with this
parting shot he walked off with his toboggan, accompanied by Jack and
the others.
“Dat dere Sully makes me mos’ drefful sick,” said Pickles. “He t’inks
de hull town must bow to him. It would be de best t’ing in de world if
da would jess git togedder and run him off de co’s.”
“One of us must beat him in that race,” said Jack, decidedly. “If he
wins, he won’t stop crowing for a month.”
“You can do it, Jack,” said Andy, who had great confidence in his older
brother’s abilities. “He hasn’t near the wind you have.”
“That may be, but he’s got everlastingly long legs, Andy; don’t forget
that.”
“I’ll bank on Harry,” put in Boxy, who was Harry’s most intimate
friend, having lived next door to him for years. “His legs are pretty
long, and his wind is right there every time.”
“Well, I don’t care if I do lose, if Harry wins,” said Jack. “So long
as we keep the first prize away from the Sully crowd.”
“I’m going to do my best to win that race,” put in Harry. “Not only for
the honor, but because I want the money.”
“Has Mr. Grimes decided to put up a purse?” asked Jack, quickly.
“He told me he would put up a gold medal, but if any one wanted it,
he would buy the medal back for fifteen dollars. And if I had fifteen
dollars I wouldn’t have to ask father for a cent of spending money for
a year.”
“And you could go on that tour with us, couldn’t you?” put in Boxy,
quickly. “That is, if we go.”
“I suppose I could,” returned Harry, thoughtfully.
The idea of a winter tour had been in the minds of this crowd of boys
for several weeks. Rudskill was situated upon the banks of a well-known
river in New York State, and their idea was to build an iceboat, and
cruise up the river a distance of some forty miles, and then start on a
trip among the mountains to a sheet of water, which I shall call Rock
Island Lake. Once on the lake, they would cross it on skates, and then
locate a winter camp in the heart of the mountains on the western side,
where they could spend several weeks in hunting and fishing and other
winter sports.
The four boys had already formed themselves into an organization which
they called the Zero Club--certainly a most appropriate name for winter
use. Jack Bascoe was the president, and also general director of the
club, which held weekly meetings regularly in the harness-room of Mr.
Bascoe’s barn.
It was Andy who had first proposed this trip, and he had found that
idea taken up with avidity. A fire in the town schoolhouse had closed
that institution six weeks for repairs, and so the time could be taken
without losing any part of the school session.
On the following day the four boys gathered together on the river,
which, during the past ten days of severe cold, had frozen completely
over, to practice for the coming races, which were to be three in
number.
The races were gotten up by a Mr. Grimes, a wealthy and eccentric
resident of the town, who personally offered the prizes, which were six
in number, a first and second for each race.
As the boys skated around they talked over the matter of leaving home
for a time, and also of the expense of such a trip.
“I have reckoned it all out,” said Andy. “We can squeeze through on
fifty dollars.”
“That is, if we get blankets and such stuff from home,” said Boxy.
“Certainly. Fifty dollars will only cover the cost of necessary
provisions, ammunition and the like. We must furnish our own blankets,
clothing, guns, snowshoes, and such things.”
“Well, that is twelve dollars and a half each,” said Harry.
“I can raise that,” meditated Boxy. “I’ve saved eight dollars, and I’ll
get father to allow me something on account of my birthday in February
next.”
The others laughed at this.
“Drawing on a birthday nearly three months off!” remarked Jack. “Your
father will want a discount at that rate.”
“I’ve got the money, and more,” put in Andy. “And I know Jack has it,
too.”
“I haven’t but fifty cents,” said Harry, with a light laugh to cover up
his real feelings. “So, you see, it’s race or nothing with me.”
“I’ve a good mind to withdraw,” suggested Jack.
“Not for the world, Jack. You must stick, and win it--if you can.”
“But I would rather have you win it,” persisted the president and
general manager of the Zero Club.
“No, I won’t have it that way. Promise me you’ll try for the medal, and
will do your best to win it.”
Jack demurred, but Harry would not listen, so finally he agreed to do
as his friend wished.
The ice on the river was as smooth as glass, and the promises for some
great races were very encouraging.