Tom said nothing, but he thought a lot.
Then he felt himself falling. There was but one thing to do, and Tom did it. He was staggering forward, trying in vain to remain upright long enough to cross the line. The only way he could do it was to gain more momentum than that caused by Sam’s foul interference. That was to jump, and Tom did it.
Up in the air he rose, remembering the time he had cleared barrels on the ice in an obstacle race.
Up and up he went, fairly hurling himself forward. As he did so he had a confused glimpse of Sam Heller sprawling on the ice, and tumbling over and over. Tom also saw Bruce Bennington looking at him in astonishment. Our hero also had a glance at representatives of the Junior and Sophomore classes fairly doubled up in a desperate effort to win the race.
“But I’ll do it! I’ll do it, if I don’t break a skate when I come down, or trip,” thought Tom, desperately.
The jump had accomplished the very purpose for which the plucky Freshman intended it. Just as when you trip, and fall forward, if you can suddenly jump, and equalize the momentum given the upward part of our body, while overcoming the inertia of your feet, caused by the contact with some obstacle—just in this way Tom had jumped.
He saw the finish line but a few feet ahead. The next moment, amid a perfect riot of cheers, he came down with resounding force on the ice, his steel runners ringing out in the frosty air.
For a second he feared that he could not keep his balance, but by a desperate effort he did, and with great speed he slid across the mark, and fairly into the crowd of students bunched beyond it. Tom was unable to stop himself.
A quick glance showed that he was alone when he crossed the finish mark. He had won the race against big odds!