"How many miles an hour?" gasped Mildred as they glided on.
"Wish I'd a speedometer! About a hundred, I should think. She's going A1. Oh, I say! Look out for yourself! Jemima! That was a narrow shave!"
As he spoke, Rodney had ground his heel heavily into the snow, and the sled slued sharply to the right. They were almost at the bottom of the run, and in another instant were able to stop. Rodney sprang up, and rushing back to the lump of snow which they had just avoided, hastily uncovered a jagged piece of rock.
"Hi! Danger!" he yelled to Diccon, who was about to start down the track. "Look out here for all you're worth!"
"What's the matter?" cried Mildred, who had joined him.
"Matter? Don't you see this boulder? It was completely hidden by the snow. If we'd hit it, I'd have broken your nose for you in good earnest, or something worse. Keep wide, Diccon! It's as nasty a trap as one could find anywhere—it's so innocently covered. There they go, like an express! They'd have smashed straight into it if I hadn't warned them."
"Who's won?" asked Mildred.
"A draw!" shouted Rhoda.
"Then come on, Mildred, and we'll try again. We know our danger spot now, and I promise I won't run you at it. Are you game for another go?"
"As many as you like!" declared Mildred with sparkling eyes.