CHAPTER XXI

THE ARROW AND THE SWALLOW

Again the swift descent of the long hill was made, and then once more the boys climbed back to the starting point.

Tim Pickard and his friends were passed each time, but no trouble came, the owner of the other bob either not caring to disturb them then, or else, as Jack suggested, he feared the damage which might come to his own sled from a collision.

When at last the boys returned to their rooms, they were all enthusiastic over the sport of the afternoon and were eagerly looking forward to the following day when the experience might be repeated.

Indeed it was not long before the entire school seemed to feel the contagion of the sport, and sleds and improved bobs were to be seen every afternoon upon the long course of West Hill. Even the towns-people came to share in the coasting, and many strange looking sleds soon made their appearance.

One in particular attracted much attention. It was made of two rude low sleds such as the farmers used to draw their heavy loads of wood in the winter. It was an immense affair, and frequently fifteen or twenty young men would be packed together upon it, and when the rough-looking contrivance made its appearance it was sure to have every right of way, as no one cared to stand in its path.

Even the ladies soon joined in the sport and West Hill presented a gay appearance, covered as it frequently was by the merry crowds. Some of the towns-people had horses to drag the heavy sleds back up the hill and to enable the ladies to avoid the trouble of climbing, but the Weston boys did not consider it much of a task to retrace their steps; and indeed the pleasure was perhaps increased by the difficult ascent.

Jack soon had the name which Ward had suggested painted in bright colors on his bob, and the fame and the speed of "The Arrow" seemed to increase daily.

Among the coasting contrivances none seemed to be equal to it except the bob which Tim Packard owned and which he had named "The Swallow," perhaps from some fancied resemblance between its swiftness and the flight of that bird.

The school had "gone mad," as Jack phrased it, over the coasting on West Hill. The time between supper and the evening study hour also was given up to the sport, and instead of soon tiring of it, the interest and excitement seemed to increase with every passing day.

But among all the sleds and bobs none appeared to belong to the class of "The Arrow" and "The Swallow," and they were soon the acknowledged leaders of them all. The events which followed were perhaps only a natural outcome of that fact and a trial between the two soon came to be talked of among the boys.

"Ward," said Jack, one evening about two weeks after the beginning of the winter term, "Tim wants to have a race between his bob and mine. What do you think of it?"

"I didn't think he'd condescend to race with us," replied Ward, almost unconsciously assuming a partial ownership in "The Arrow." Jack apparently did not notice that there was anything of assumption either in Ward's words or manner, for while the generous-hearted boy had fully shared the pleasures of his bob among the boys of the school, his love for Ward had led to his being a member of every party formed. He declared that Ward alone knew just how to start "The Arrow" aright, and that much of its success was due to that very fact. And Ward in his joy had not stopped long to consider the matter, and soon came almost to regard the swift-flying bob as a joint possession.

"Condescend?" said Jack. "It's no condescension on his part, let me tell you, to have a race with 'The Arrow.' His old tub isn't to be mentioned with it."

"That's all right; I wasn't referring to the bobs, but to Tim's present feelings."

"Well, I fancy Tim did have to swallow hard once or twice before he could bring himself up to the point of challenging 'The Arrow.' But, you see, so many of the fellows are interested and have talked so much about the two bobs that Tim probably couldn't stand it any longer. So the upshot of it all is that he wants a race."

"I think we can accommodate him," said Ward. "When does he want it to come off?"

"Next Saturday afternoon's the time he mentioned. I suppose we can suit ourselves about that, though. When do you think is the best time?"

"Oh, that'll do as well as any. That is, if the weather holds good. How many are to be in each party?"

"We shall have you and me, of course, and then there'll be Luscious, and Henry, and Big and Little Smith, and Puddle and his big brother. That'll be eight all together."

"Why do you take the little fellows?"

"Oh, it'll be fun for them," replied Jack. "Tim'll carry the same number, eight."

"Yes, but his load will be heavier. Little Pond and Little Smith are both so light that they won't count for very much, I'm afraid."

"Oh well, never mind that. They'll get some fun out of it anyhow, and that'll be almost as good as winning the race. But I'm not afraid, even if Tim does have a heavier load. I guess 'The Arrow' will cleave the air all right."

The race was soon arranged and at once became the exciting topic in the school life. Three days only intervened and the boys of the rival parties were not idle. Daily they went up on West Hill, and Jack tried several new methods of steering, while Ward practised the "send-off," upon which they all relied.

Saturday dawned clear and bright, and the afternoon promised to be almost ideal for the race. Long before the time when it was to occur, the boys of the school took various positions along the roadside to watch the race, although many of them preferred the place in front of West Hall, which was to be the terminus, and there they could witness the finish and at once determine which had won.

Ward had suggested that the race should be "on time," that is, that each bob should go over the course alone and that the time occupied by each should be carefully kept, and the merits of the bobs be determined in that manner. There would be less danger by adopting that method, and he could not disguise the fact, in spite of his excitement, that the race was fraught with more or less of peril. The unanimous protest of all his companions, however, had served to do away with his suggestion, and he had said no more.

It was arranged that the course should be gone over three times and that the bob which won two of the three races should be declared the victor.

Much time had been spent in polishing the long, slender steel runners of "The Arrow," and everything which was likely to add to its speed and safety was carefully looked to.

At last the appointed time arrived and the eight boys who were to comprise "The Arrow's" load started up West Hill, each grasping the long rope and assisting in drawing the bob after them.

A cheer from their friends followed them as they started forth from West Hall, and at intervals along the road they were greeted by the plaudits of the boys. It was evident that most of the school desired them to win, though Tim was not entirely lacking in supporters.

As they drew near the hilltop, it was seen that the rival party was already there, and a crowd of boys stood about "The Swallow" admiring her strength and speed, and talking over her various good points.

Many of the boys who were there to see the start, planned to go down the hill after the first race and be with those who were assembled near West Hall to witness the finish in the succeeding races. Mr. Blake was to be the starter, while Mr. Crane was to be the judge at the end of the course, and they had left him with the crowd in the village.

The excitement was now at the highest pitch. Lots were soon drawn for choice of sides in the road, and as Jack won he selected the right, although there was no advantage in that, and the allotment had been made only to insure perfect fairness for all. The bobs were soon in position and Ward took his stand behind "The Arrow" ready to make the start, while Ripley was waiting to do a similar work for "The Swallow."

The pathway was all cleared and the boys along the roadside were to see that the way was kept clear throughout the course. Ward could see the eager faces of those who were assembled at the starting-place as he glanced about him. They stood back from the road, but were leaning forward intent upon every movement of the rivals.

Jack and Tim had taken their positions in front, for each was to steer his own sled. Tim's face betrayed no feeling, but as he glanced at Ripley, Ward could see that in spite of his apparent indifference he felt confident of winning. Indeed, as he returned Ward's glance a sneer spread over his face, which served to rouse his rival still more. How Ward did wish to win that race! They must have it! And the eager lad determined to give "The Arrow" such a start as she never before had.

"Are you ready?" called Mr. Blake, his tall, angular form bending in the excitement which he shared with the boys. "When I count three you're to start."

He took his watch from his pocket and then glanced once more about him to see that all were ready for the signal to be given.

"One! Two! THREE!"

Instantly Ward bent to his task and "The Arrow" began to move before him. Harder and harder he pushed, and as the speed instantly increased he leaped lightly into his seat and tightly grasped the body of Big Smith who was seated directly in front of him. Unmindful of the frantic cheers of the boys in the assembly behind him he turned to look at "The Swallow." Neither side apparently had gained any advantage in the start, and now the two bobs were speeding onward side by side.

The speed increased, but the two sleds still kept the same relative positions. On down the hillside swept the rivals, and soon they were almost flying through the air. The cold wind made their eyes water, but as yet neither Jack nor Tim had for a moment withdrawn his attention from the task before him. Both fully realized the necessity of constant watchfulness and were resolved that not an advantage should be lost.

Cheers arose from the boys waiting by the roadside, but almost before they could be heard they sounded far away behind them. Both sleds were well handled and were doing nobly.

Around the first bend in the road they swept almost together, and soon the first of the steep descents was gained. Almost as if they were not touching the ground the sleds shot through the air, but the increasing swiftness apparently was equally shared by them both. Side by side the two sleds swept onward. The speed increased each moment, and as yet it was impossible to determine which was gaining the advantage. On and on they sped, "swifter than the wings of the wind."

Around the next curve, then on down the next fall in the road, then around the next bend. More than half of the course had now been covered and still the sleds sped forward side by side.

Before them lay the last of the steep places, and as in an instant they seemed to be upon it, Ward gave a shout as he saw "The Arrow" push slightly forward in advance of its rival. The advantage was very slight but still it was an advantage, for he was nearly abreast of Tim Pickard, who was seated in front on "The Swallow" and steering his own sled, as we know.

Before them now there lay the two little hills. The issue of the race would be decided by the ability to withstand the slackening of speed which was sure to come there.

Up the first little hill both sleds went, and Ward's shouts redoubled as he saw that "The Arrow" was forging slightly ahead. They were just about a sled length beyond their opponents now, and it seemed to him that he could almost hear the labored breathing of Tim Pickard who was just behind him. The lighter load was a very decided advantage now, Ward thought, in climbing the hill, and he blamed himself for having made any protest against the younger boys being made members of the party.

As they passed down the little hill "The Swallow" gained slightly, but as they began the ascent of the last remaining hill again the lighter weight of "The Arrow's" load began to tell, and when at last they gained the summit it was once more a full length in advance.

They could see West Hall in the distance now, and as the descent was begun they all knew that the last stretch of the course was at hand. The waiting boys had already obtained a glimpse of the racers and their shouts in the distance could be distinctly heard. Plainer and plainer grew the sounds, but Ward's heart sank as he glanced behind him and saw that "The Swallow" was slowly creeping up on them. Her heavier load began to tell now as the descent was fairly entered upon. Ward felt as if he must get off and push the bob before him. What was the trouble? Why was it that "The Arrow" seemed to drag on her way? Slowly and yet steadily he could see that "The Swallow" was gaining. First Tim Pickard came alongside, and then one after another was directly by his side. On and on moved the sleds and soon "The Swallow" was a little in advance.

The cheers of the waiting assembly redoubled now that the bobs were in plain view and the end of the course had been almost gained.

Still "The Swallow" pushed ahead, and when at last the end had been gained she crossed the line more than a length in advance of her rival.

Shouts and cheers greeted the outcome of the first race, even the boys who had not favored "The Swallow" shouting till they were almost beside themselves in their excitement.

Ward and his companions rose from their seats, but they were downcast and disheartened.

"Never mind, Ward," said Jack lightly as they started again up the hill, "'one swallow doesn't make a summer,' you know. They haven't won the race yet. It's the best two out of three and we've a good fighting chance left."

"'The Arrow's' the swifter bob," said Ward disconsolately. "There's no doubt at all about that. They beat us by their heavier load. We were ahead up to the top of the hill, but when we started down then their weight put in its fine work. We'd have beaten them easily if we'd carried as many pounds of weight as they did."

"Never mind that," said Jack quickly, glancing behind him as he spoke to see whether either of the younger boys had overheard the words. "It's an experience they'll always remember, and it's as great fun to see them have a good time as it is to win. Maybe we'll win this time."

Ward made no reply, nor did he speak again before they had gained the summit of the hill. Many of the boys had left it now to go down to West Hall to witness the finish of the race.

The sleds were soon in readiness for the second race, and this time Jack's prophecy proved to be correct, for "The Arrow" won by three full lengths.

Each had now won once and the third trial would be the deciding one. The excitement of the spectators as well as the boys engaged in the race became more intense now. Nearly all had gone from the summit when for the third time the sleds were drawn up there.

They were quickly reversed and placed in position, and then at the word of Mr. Blake started swiftly down the long course for the third and decisive trial in the race.