"Humph! you don't have to tell me what to do," growled the other cadet; and then, striking a bit of extra smooth roadway, the Yellow Streak bounded ahead, much to the delight of its riders.
"Hurrah! here is where we leave them behind," sang out Codfish.
"Nothing to it but the shouting," added another of Bill Glutts' cronies.
"We'll be a mile ahead by the time we reach the lake," exulted Nick Carncross.
For half a minute it looked as if his prophecy might be true. The Yellow Streak was gliding over the icy surface of the long hill, and consequently going ahead, while the Blue Moon struck several soft spots where going was anything but good.
"Oh, Jack! can't you pull out of this?" queried Gif Garrison anxiously. "Pull over to the left where the going is harder. It's too soft here entirely."
"I'm sticking to my side of the road, just as I was expected to do," said Jack grimly.
The Yellow Streak disappeared over the first rise, and for a few seconds was lost to view. But then the Blue Moon came along, and beyond this rise found going somewhat easier. Slowly but surely they crawled up behind the other bobsled.
"Keep to your side of the road, Glutts!" yelled Jack, in a second warning. "If you don't, there'll be trouble."
"And you'll get the worst of it," added Randy.