“I’m going to jump off!” a girl cried.
“Don’t you dare!” ordered the Big Californian, and there was that in his voice which made her obey.
From the big bob in front, which was now only a little way ahead of the Randall sled, came a chorus of shrill screams. There was a movement, plainly seen in the bright moonlight, as if some of the girls were going to roll off.
“Sit still! Sit still!” yelled Frank. “Jam on your brakes there, Burton!” he added. “You’ll never make that turn!”
“All right, I get you!” sang out the newcomer on the hill, and Phil gritted his teeth as he thought of his sister—and the other girls—entrusted to a reckless youth like this.
There was a scraping sound, as one of the lads on Burton’s bob pulled the cord that sent a chisel-like piece of steel down into the snow-covered roadway. But the speed of the sled was not much checked by this brake.
By this time the two big bobs were close together, and the dangerous turn was almost at hand. All the other coasters on the hill, save a few that were near the bottom, had stopped their sport to see the outcome of the perilous ride.
“Look out, Frank, you’ll be into them!” yelled Tom, as he saw their bob coming nearer and nearer to the foremost one. “Shall I jam on the brakes?”
His hand was on the cord, and, in another moment he would have sent the scraping steel back of the rear runner, into the frozen surface.