“No! No!” yelled Frank. “Don’t touch that brake, Tom! I want all the speed I can get!”
“What are you going to do?” cried his chum.
“I’m going to head them away from the cut-off.”
“You can’t do it!”
“I’m going to!” retorted Frank grimly. “Easy on the brake, Tom.”
“All right! She’s off!”
The girls on both bobs were now quiet, but they were none the less in great fear. The very danger seemed to make them dumb, and they looked ahead with frightened eyes, waiting for they knew not what.
A moment later Frank’s plan was plain to his chums. Knowing the hill as he did, familiar with every bump and hollow, he had decided, if possible, to draw up alongside the foremost bob, between it and the dangerous turn, which Burton did not seem able to avoid. Then Frank would hold a straight course, if he could, and fairly force the other sled out of danger.
It was a risky plan, but none other would serve to prevent the big, new bob from shooting toward the smaller hill, with the certainty of overturning.
“Steer to the right—more to the right!” yelled Frank to Burton. “I’m coming up on your left!”