"I'd rip her all to pieces if I did," he answered. "Queer about that brake rod snapping. That's not in my department, but I'd like to get hold of the man that inspected and tested it," he added grimly. "I'd break him!"
Dick looked into the faces of his chums. There was a quiet, strained look in all of them, but none of them showed craven fear. He glanced at his father, and Mr. Hamilton smiled at his son.
"I guess we won't be behind hand now," he said.
"No," and Dick shook his head. Then he glanced over the side of the truck and noted how the trees were slipping by. They were going at ever-increasing speed.
Luckily they met no other vehicles on the hill, or there might have been trouble. The auto drivers in the rear, finding they could do nothing were keeping up as close as they could, to render any assistance if possible.
It was well that the speeding truck was strongly and ponderously made, and that it was hung low, otherwise it would have toppled over. As it was they all swayed from side to side dangerously, tossing the occupants against one another.
"Good practice for the coming game," remarked Dutton.
"I hope it doesn't take their nerve," said Mr. Martin in a low voice to his colleague. "This may have a fearful effect."
"Their nerves are good," declared the Princeton coach, "but I wish this was over. There's a good bit yet to go, and we'll travel faster at the end, for the hill is steeper there."
Mr. Martin silently nodded, and then looked ahead. As he did so he could not refrain from a startled cry, for the hill took a sudden, steep dip, and it seemed impossible for any auto not under control to make it successfully.