Crossing the highway which skirted the lake was not so easy, and beyond this the snow was rather deep, and consequently the speed of the Blue Moon was slackened. The Yellow Streak came dangerously close, and then Bill Glutts seemed to lose his head completely. He slued around to his own side of the road, but made such a short turn that in a twinkling the long bobsled was upset and the occupants hurled in all directions.
"There they go! They are upset!" yelled Fred. And then he lost sight of those left behind as the Blue Moon shot out on the surface of the lake and beyond the mark set for the end of the race.
"We win! we win!" cried Andy, leaping from the bobsled, and in the exuberance of his spirits he turned a handspring in the snow.
"What happened to the other sled?" asked Jack, who had been so busy steering the Blue Moon he had paid little attention to what had been going on behind.
"They had a spill," answered Fred. "But before they took it they came pretty close to running into us."
"It was up to them to keep to their side of the road," said Gif Garrison. "Why, we might have had a terrible accident if they had run into us!"
There were about a dozen boys on the lake who had witnessed the finish of the race, and these, along with those who had come down on the Blue Moon, now turned back to see what had happened to the Glutts party. They found the cadets who had been spilled picking themselves up and brushing the snow from their garments. One was nursing a bruised ankle, and another a bruised elbow, while Bill Glutts was wiping some blood from a scratch on his chin.
"Well, we won the race," said Jack briefly. He had no desire to crow over his opponents.
"Huh! you didn't win it fairly," growled Glutts, glaring at him.
"Didn't win it fairly!" exclaimed Jack. "What do you mean by that?"