“There she goes!” echoed Jack Fitch.
They shoved the ball down the slope. On and on it rolled, gaining in momentum and size with every bound.
“Look at it!” cried George. “Say, it sure is going!”
“And it’s getting as big as a house!” excitedly shouted Bert.
“It will roll all the way across the lake,” said Tom, for the frozen body of water was at the foot of the hill, and it did seem as though the snowball had momentum enough to carry it over the ice.
A moment later the ball was at the foot of the hill, and rolling along with increasing speed. And then, so suddenly that the boys were startled with fear, something happened.
Out on the ice drove a horse and a cutter, containing a man. He had left the road and taken a short cut across the ice. And now he was directly in the path of the immense, rolling snowball.
“Stop! Stop!” cried Tom Fairfield. “Look out!”
But it was too late to stop, even if the man in the cutter had heard him.
On rushed the great ball directly toward the horse and vehicle.