Ward Hill, the Senior

by Everett T. Tomlinson

Before them now there lay the two little hills. The issue of the race would be decided by the ability to withstand the slackening of speed which was sure to come there.

Up the first little hill both sleds went, and Ward's shouts redoubled as he saw that "The Arrow" was forging slightly ahead. They were just about a sled length beyond their opponents now, and it seemed to him that he could almost hear the labored breathing of Tim Pickard who was just behind him. The lighter load was a very decided advantage now, Ward thought, in climbing the hill, and he blamed himself for having made any protest against the younger boys being made members of the party.

As they passed down the little hill "The Swallow" gained slightly, but as they began the ascent of the last remaining hill again the lighter weight of "The Arrow's" load began to tell, and when at last they gained the summit it was once more a full length in advance.

They could see West Hall in the distance now, and as the descent was begun they all knew that the last stretch of the course was at hand. The waiting boys had already obtained a glimpse of the racers and their shouts in the distance could be distinctly heard. Plainer and plainer grew the sounds, but Ward's heart sank as he glanced behind him and saw that "The Swallow" was slowly creeping up on them. Her heavier load began to tell now as the descent was fairly entered upon. Ward felt as if he must get off and push the bob before him. What was the trouble? Why was it that "The Arrow" seemed to drag on her way? Slowly and yet steadily he could see that "The Swallow" was gaining. First Tim Pickard came alongside, and then one after another was directly by his side. On and on moved the sleds and soon "The Swallow" was a little in advance.

The cheers of the waiting assembly redoubled now that the bobs were in plain view and the end of the course had been almost gained.

Still "The Swallow" pushed ahead, and when at last the end had been gained she crossed the line more than a length in advance of her rival.

Shouts and cheers greeted the outcome of the first race, even the boys who had not favored "The Swallow" shouting till they were almost beside themselves in their excitement.

Ward and his companions rose from their seats, but they were downcast and disheartened.

"Never mind, Ward," said Jack lightly as they started again up the hill, "'one swallow doesn't make a summer,' you know. They haven't won the race yet. It's the best two out of three and we've a good fighting chance left."

"'The Arrow's' the swifter bob," said Ward disconsolately. "There's no doubt at all about that. They beat us by their heavier load. We were ahead up to the top of the hill, but when we started down then their weight put in its fine work. We'd have beaten them easily if we'd carried as many pounds of weight as they did."