“She seems all right, doesn’t she?” replied Dick. “But she isn’t really going now. The wind’s dead astern.”
“Well, it’s pretty good for a starter,” answered Chub. “A fellow feels a little bit uneasy just at first, eh?”
“Well, it’s sort of funny, and that’s a fact,” owned Dick. “And until I’ve learned a little more about the thing I’m not taking any chances. There are several tricks I want to try.”
“How fast do you suppose we’re going?” asked Chub. Dick shook his head.
“Blest if I know. I was never on one before. We’ll call it fifteen miles an hour.”
“Bet you it’s nearer thirty!” said Chub.
“When you go that fast you’ll know it,” Dick answered grimly. “Hold fast now; I’m going to tack her a bit.”
“Don’t you think we’re going fast enough as—” began Chub.
But the inquiry ended in an exclamation of alarm as one runner lifted itself off the ice and the boat heeled over.