THE MISHAP OF THE ARROW

In spite of his excitement, Ward Hill was not unmindful of the danger which attended the race. While the long road was kept clear of vehicles and passing teams by the boys who were stationed at intervals along the course, yet the speed with which the bobs swept over the smooth surface was terrific, and any little mistake on the part of either Jack or Tim was likely to prove very serious in its consequences.

He knew that both the boys were skillful, and their control of the sleds had been superb up to this time, and that there apparently was no cause for the fear which somehow came upon him when they started on the third and last descent of West Hill.

In a moment, however, all his attention was absorbed by the excitement of the race. While not so many of the boys had been on the summit when they started this time as had been there when the other two starts had been made, their feelings were more intense, and what they lacked in numbers they more than made up by their shouts. Each bob had now won a race, and the third trial would determine which should be the acknowledged champion of the school.

It almost seemed as if the sleds themselves shared in the feelings of the boys. The road was in prime condition, and apparently there was nothing to prevent a full test of the speed of each sled.

At any rate, it seemed to Ward, as he clung tightly to the body of the boy in front of him, as if the speed had very materially increased. And yet almost side by side the two bobs sped on down the hillside.

Far away rose the shouts of the waiting boys as soon as they obtained a glimpse of the oncoming sleds; but almost before the sounds could be heard the bobs swept on and passed the scattered groups, and then again the shouts and cheers from below would be heard. No one on either sled spoke, however, for their feelings were too strong for utterance.

Two of the bends of the road had been passed, and twice had both sleds shot through the air as they came to the sharp descents in the road, and while the speed of each had instantly been increased, as yet neither had gained any perceptible advantage over the other.

As they approached the third bend, however, Ward could see that "The Arrow" was slightly in advance.

Tim Pickard, who was steering "The Swallow," was now just abreast of Little Smith, who was seated in the center of the load which Jack's bob was carrying. The advantage, however, was too slight to be a source of much comfort to the anxious boys, and the slightest mistake on Jack's part might forfeit it all in a moment.

Ward looked ahead of him and could see three boys standing directly in the pathway. They were all waving their arms and shouting together, but Ward thought nothing of their appearance, and was satisfied that they would do as all the others had done when the racers came nearer, and step aside to give them a free course down the hill.

A shout arose from "The Arrow's" load as the boys still retained their places in the road, and as the bobs swept swiftly forward, the three still kept their places till the racers were almost upon them. They were shouting and waving their arms all the time, but no one thought of that, and as they darted quickly to the side of the road, the sleds came almost upon them.

"Look out, look out!" suddenly Ward shouted as he glanced at the other sled for it seemed to him that Tim had changed his course and was steering directly into "The Arrow."

"Look out, look out!" he screamed again frantically as he saw that Tim evidently was trying to drive them off from the course. If one or the other did not instantly change there was sure to be a collision.

All the boys on "The Arrow" looked up at Ward's shout of warning, and Jack glanced backward as he heard the call.

"Look out! look out, Tim!" he screamed in his excitement, but the course of "The Arrow" instantly was changed.

Just how it all occurred Ward never knew; whether Jack had for a moment lost control of the sled as he looked backward, or the forward runners of "The Swallow" actually struck the bob he never could tell.

There was for a moment a dull grating sound, as if "The Arrow" had grated on bare ground, and all the boys on it were thrown slightly forward by the sudden checking of the speed.

However, it instantly became apparent that Jack had lost control of the bob. The swift-flying sled left the road, started directly down the bank, and before them, only a few rods away, was a low, rambling stone wall which still appeared above the crust of the snow. There was a shout of alarm from the watching boys by the roadside, a feeling of utter despair in Ward's heart as he perceived there was to be a crash of some kind. But before he or any of the boys could voice their alarm, or roll from the sled which was plunging ahead with no apparent slackening in its speed, there was a sudden shock, and the sled struck the wall, and in a moment Ward felt himself shooting through the air over the heads of his companions.

He was only partially aware of the force with which he struck the hard, smooth crust at last and slid far ahead over its surface. He tried desperately to check his speed, but all of his efforts were without avail, till at last he came sharply against the stone wall which bordered the narrow field on its farther side.

Even then he felt dull and stunned, and for a moment could not move. Just where he was or how he came to be there was not at first apparent to him.

In a brief time, however, he was aware of the shouts and cries behind him and then staggered to his feet. His face and hands were bleeding and his clothing was torn in many places. But all that was instantly forgotten as he perceived from the actions of the boys, who had quickly gathered at the place where the accident had occurred, that something was wrong there. Stumbling, staggering forward, he made his way back, though it seemed to him that every bone in his body was aching and every step gave him pain.

At last he reached the crowd, and as he approached, one of the boys noticing his appearance, turned to him and said quickly, "Are you hurt, Ward?"

"No, I think not," though even while he was speaking he was conscious of the wounds on his face and hands. "No, I think not much," he repeated; "but some of the boys here are, I fear," he hastily added.

Before him stretched upon the snow lay the bodies of Henry, Big Smith, and Jack. The others of the party were standing about as if they were almost as dazed as he, and certainly their appearance was as bad as his own. Some had bleeding noses, some showed great bruises on their faces, and all had their clothing more or less torn by the accident.

"What is it? What is it?" he said hastily, as he pushed his way into the group and approached the three boys who lay stretched upon the snow. Beneath them some of the boys had placed their overcoats, while others had rolled theirs into rude pillows and placed them underneath the heads of the injured boys.

"Are they killed?" he added in a low voice as be gazed at them.

"No, they're not dead," said one in the group; "but Jack's got it the worst of all. He must have fallen under the bob, for his little finger had been almost cut off. The runners must have gone over it. We've tied his hand up with handkerchiefs as best we could. I don't think the other fellows are anything more than stunned. Here comes Mr. Blake," he added, as the tall teacher came running toward them.

But Mr. Blake was not able to do anything more than the boys had done, and the confusion increased.

"Send for a doctor!" "Take them down on the sleds!" "Take the pillows out from under their heads!" "Rub them with snow!" were among the expressions now heard on every side, but no one seemed to be able to take the lead and the confusion increased.

"Here comes Mr. Crane!" shouted one of the boys, and in a moment the teacher approached the group. Tim's sled had gone on down the hill, and when it arrived at the end of the course, great was the astonishment of the assembled boys that it should be alone.

In response to the many questions Tim disclaimed all knowledge of what had become of "The Arrow," simply declaring that he thought there had been an accident of some kind, but that he did not know just what it was.

Mr. Cran............