The steel runners squeaked on the snow, the big sleds moved forward, slowly at first, but then more easily and quickly. Now they had reached the very brow of the hill and poised for an instant.
The next second they started down the slope, with a whizz and plunge, amid a roar of cheers.
It was a perfect beginning, and the sharp points of the runners of the three foremost sleds of the bobs were almost in a line. It was to be a fair race. From one single cheer at the successful start the shouts broke up into cries for the different village crews, each one doing honor to his native town. Anxiously did the crowd watch the sleds shooting down the hill. In a few minutes those who had sleighs would coast down also, to find out how the race ended.
The rival bobs were skimming along like birds. At first Roger could distinguish nothing, for a mist came into his eyes, caused by the rushing wind that surged past him. Then he began to see more clearly. He glanced across to the left and was surprised to see no sign of the other sleds. Could they have passed the Cardiff boys? His heart gave a mighty thump at this fear. Then he was reassured, as he heard a bumping and scraping behind him and saw the other two bobs plunge into the line of his vision. They had hung back a little, owing to an unevenness in the road.
The three racers were once more in line and were gathering speed with every foot they swayed forward. That the Cardiff boys had a good chance was early seen as they noted their sled fairly lift itself from the ground under the momentum which increased each second. Roger held on tightly for fear of being pitched off. The wind was whistling loudly in his ears, and his face was bitten by the cold. He had never ridden so fast in his life before.
Lafayette hill consisted of a series of little slopes and ascents, with small level stretches in between. The road curved in and out, now to the left, now to the right, and every once in a while would come a "thank-ye-ma'am." Over these bumps the bob flew, and when it came down, after taking the leap, it jolted every member of the Cardiff crew.
The pace was comparatively slow for the first quarter of a mile. Then the hill, which had not curved yet, became steeper. When the bobs reached this point the speed really became very swift, and the heavy sleds seemed to merely glide over the frozen ice and snow.
It was now a race in earnest, with the three contesting crews on even terms. They were about ten feet apart from side to side. The captains, with tense muscles, were guiding their easily swerved bobs, their eyes fastened on the slope before them.
Up to this time there had been no use for the stern wheel on the Cardiff sled, Tom Baker merely holding the rear bob rigid with it and keeping it straight in place, while Adrian did all the guiding necessary, which so far had been little, as the hill was without a turn. The wind was so strong, as the bobs skimmed through it, that talking was hardly possible. If a boy opened his mouth, not thinking, he was liable to find himself gasping for breath.
From somewhere behind him Roger heard an exclamation coming from a member of the Cardiff crew. He turned his head and was startled to see that instead of the Lafayette and Onativia sleds being in line with him, both bobs were now ahead of Cardiff, the Lafayette boys being half a length in advance and the other a quarter. It began to look as though the happenings of past years were to be repeated and Cardiff beaten. But Adrian showed no evidence of fear that he might be defeated again. Indeed he smiled a bit as he noted the two other bobs leaving him behind. He kept on smiling as they drew ahead, urged on by greater weight, better runners, or a smoother condition of the snowy roadbed.