“That’s one reason I think we may have a chance over Curtiss and his bunch,” explained Rob, as they took their seats for a trial trip.
“How’s that?” inquired Tubby, who, on account of his weight, sat in the middle.
“Why, their runners have hardly had time to wear smooth yet,” went on Rob. “You know it takes a long time to get them into good shape. We wore ours down last year, before we lightened the sled and widened it.”
“Ready!” shouted Merritt, from his seat in front.
“Right!” came the reply.
The next instant they were off. How that sled flew down the smooth hill! The frosty air whipped tinglingly back against their happy faces. The runners screamed as they rushed over the hard snow. Small boys cheered as they shot by. Everybody knew that the “Eagle” was one of the favorites in the big event—the race for the silver cup.
“She’s fast,” grudgingly admitted Jack Curtiss, as the red sled flew by him on its way down the hill.
“But we can clip a nailparing of a second off her,” rejoined Freeman Hunt, boastfully.
“Think so?” inquired Lem Lonsdale.
“Oh, sure,” chimed in Bill Bender, confidently.