The danger of a smash and overturn was imminent. The heavy bobsled was plunging toward the obstruction, and there was neither time nor space to steer clear of the branch.
The girls, breathless from the swift ride, could scarcely scream; and Billy was himself speechless. But Dan did not lose his head.
In a trice he whipped out his claspknife, sprung open the blade, and just before the collision occurred he cut the kite-string.
The huge kite turned a somersault in the air, and then plunged to the ice. But the boys and girls on the bobsled did not notice that.
The sled smashed into the tree-branch—and stuck. Dan went over on his head, but arose unhurt. The others had managed to cling to the sled.
“I know who did this!” yelled Billy, when he got his breath. “It was that Spink fellow.”
“Oh! he wouldn’t do such a thing,” said Mildred, timidly. “It—it must have fallen here.”
“Not much,” declared Billy.
When they dragged the bobsled back to the rest of the crowd, Spink had already gone home. As Dan said, smiling, there was no chance for a row then; and before Billy met Barry Spink again, he had got quieted down and, on Dan’s advice, did not accuse the fellow of the mean trick.
The kite was smashed all to pieces. Dan decided that that method of coasting was perilous, after all.