The two passengers, frozen with fright, gripped the side ropes, and kept their heads down. It did not even occur to them that they could save themselves by rolling off. For that matter, they did not realize that the brake had broken.
Penny, in end position, could have jumped easily, A fall into the soft snow beside the track would be far less apt to cause serious injury than an upset from the high wall of the curve. But it never occurred to her to try to save herself.
There was only one slim chance of preventing a bad accident, a costly one for herself, and Penny took it. As the perpendicular wall of Horseshoe Curve loomed up ahead, she wrapped her arm about the side rope of the sled and hurled herself off. Her entire body was given a violent jerk. A sharp pain shot through her right arm, but she gritted her teeth and held on.
[Penny’s trailing body, acting as a brake, slowed down the sled] and kept it from upsetting as it swept into the curve. Sideways it climbed the wall of snow. It crept to the very edge, hovered there a breathless moment, then fell back to overturn at the flat side of the curve.
Untangling herself from a pile of arms and legs, Sara began to help her passengers to their feet.
“Penny, are you hurt?” she asked anxiously. “That was a courageous thing to do! You saved us from a bad accident.”
Spectators, thrilled by the display of heroism, came running to the scene. Penny, every muscle screaming with pain, rolled over in the snow. Gripping her wrenched arm, she tried to get to her feet and could not.
“Penny, you are hurt!” cried Sara.
“It’s my arm, more than anything else,” Penny said, trying to keep her face from twisting. “I—I hope it’s not broken.”
Willing hands raised her to her feet and supported her. Penny was relieved to discover that she could lift her injured arm.