CHAPTER I
THE CRASH ON THE HILL
"Smooth as glass!" ejaculated Nan Sherwood, as she came in sight ofPendragon Hill and noted the gleaming stretch of snow and ice that randown to the very edge of Lake Huron.
"And you're the girl that said coasting time would never, _never_ come,"laughed her chum, Bess Harley, who was walking beside her with her handon a rope attached to a bobsled that four girls were drawing.
"Never is a long word," admitted Nan. "I didn't quite mean that; but theweather's been so mild up to now that I was getting desperate."
"Nan registering desperation," put in Laura Polk, she of the red hairand irrepressible spirits.
Laura struck an attitude of mock desperation, but the effect was marredwhen her foot slipped and she went down with a thump.
Her laughing mates helped her to her feet and brushed the snow off herdress.
"The wicked stand on slippery places," quoted Grace Mason mischievously.
"Yes," Laura came back, as quick as a flash, "I see that they do, but Ican't."
The shout of laughter that followed atoned somewhat for her loss ofdignity--although she had not lost much, for Laura and dignity werehardly on speaking terms.
Laughing and chattering, all trying to talk at once and all succeeding,the bevy of light-hearted girls reached the top of the hill.
Before them stretched Lake Huron, extending farther than their eyescould see. For a long distance out from shore the lake seemed frozensolid. A small island rose above the ice about half a mile distant, andthis was the limit fixed upon for the coasters. The cove between thefoot of the hill and the island had a glassy coating of ice that hadbeen swept and scraped and served for skating as well as coasting.
"I wonder if it's perfectly safe," remarked Grace Mason, a littletimidly. "You know this is the first time the cove's been frozen thiswinter, and we haven't tried it yet."
"Bless your little heart, you'll be as safe as if you were on abattlefield," was the dubious comfort that Laura held out.
"Much safer than that," interposed Professor Krenner, the teacher ofmathematics and architectural drawing at the Lakeview Hall school thatthe girls were attending. "You can be sure that neither Dr. Prescott norI would take any chances on that score. A heavy logging team went overit yesterday, and the ice didn't even creak, let alone crack. And everyday that passes of this kind of weather makes it thicker and stronger."
"My, but that's a comfort," remarked Laura. "I'd hate to have this younglife of mine cut off just when it's so full of promise."
"How Laura hates herself," put in Bess Harley.
"You're perfectly safe, Laura," Nan assured her. "Only the good dieyoung, you know."
The professor's kindly eyes twinkled as he looked from one to the otherof the rosy-cheeked, sparkling-eyed girls, bubbling over with fun andvitality. He had just come up from the queer little cabin in which helived at the edge of the lake. It was part of his work to supervise thecoasting and, as far as possible, keep it free from accident.
About his sole diversion was playing on a key bugle, and thelong-drawn-out notes of the instrument, sometimes lively and sometimesin a minor strain, were familiar sounds to the girls, and often anoccasion of jesting.
Professor Krenner held the bugle in his hand now, and after glancing athis watch, he raised the instrument to his lips and blew a clear callthat had the effect of hastening the steps of some of the groups thatwere coming toward the hill from the Hall, the roof of which could beseen over the tops of the trees.
Outdoor sports were made much of at Lakeview Hall, not only in thecatalogue designed for the perusal of parents, but in actual fact. "Asound mind in a sound body" was Dr. Beulah Prescott's aim for herpupils, and exercise was as obligatory as lessons. None was excusedwithout an adequate reason, and the group upon the hill grew in numbersuntil it seemed as though all the members of the school were presentexcept the smaller girls, who had a slide of their own.
"All here except the queen," remarked Laura, as she looked around her.
"The queen?" repeated Bess Harley, staring at her.
"Queen Linda of Chicago," explained Laura, with a wicked twinkle in hereye.
"For goodness' sake, don't ever let Linda Riggs hear you say anythinglike that, Laura Polk," admonished Bess. "She's so conceited that shewouldn't know it was sarcasm. She'd think it was a tribute drawn from anunwilling admirer."
"I know," laughed Laura. "It doesn't take much to set her up. If she hadwater on the brain, she'd think she was the whole ocean."
"Here she comes now," remarked Nan, after the laughter caused by Laura'ssally had subsided.
A tall girl, wearing expensive furs and having a supercilious air, camealong with two or three companions. It was noticeable that she left tothem the work of drawing the bobsled, while she sauntered along,ostentatiously adjusting her furs as though she sought to call attentionto their quality.
"Hurry up, Linda," called out Laura. "I believe you'd be late at yourown funeral."
"I never get anywhere early," snapped Linda. "It isn't good form. When Igo to the theater I always get in late. I always have the best seat thatmoney can buy reserved for me, so what's the use of hurrying? Of courseit's different when one has to go early and scramble for a seat."
"That may be your habit in Chicago, but it isn't in favor here, MissRiggs," said Professor Krenner dryly. "But now that all seem to be here,we'll start the races. You understand that all sleds are to keep threeminutes apart so as to avoid accident. The course is straight out on thelake, and the best two out of three trials win the race. Miss Sherwood,since you are nearest the starting line, suppose you get your sled inposition to lead off. Not so fast, Miss Riggs," he went on, as Lindatried to shove her sled to the crest of the hill. "I said Miss Sherwoodwas to go first."
"I don't see why I should have to wait," pouted Linda, as shereluctantly drew back her sled before the decided look in theprofessor's eye. "Hateful old thing," she remarked in a low voice to herspecial friend and intimate, Cora Courtney. "He favors Sherwood becauseshe attends his poky old lectures on architectural drawing and pretendsshe likes them."
"I shouldn't be surprised if that were just it," replied Cora, who madea habit of agreeing with the rich friend whose friendship often provedprofitable to Cora. She had no money herself but clung closely to thosewho had.
"Who was it," asked Rhoda Hammond in an amused whisper of Nan, "whowrote an essay once on the 'gentle art of making enemies'?"
"I'm not sure," laughed Nan in reply, "but I think it was Whistler. Whydo you ask?"
"Because," replied Rhoda in the same low voice, "I think he must havehad Linda or somebody just like her in mind, for she has the art down toperfection."
There would have been little dissent from Rhoda's verdict, for Linda hadfew real friends among the girls of Lakeview Hall. She was purse-proudand vulgar, and, though her money gave her a certain prestige among theshallow and unthinking, she lacked the qualities of mind and heart toendear herself to any one.
By this time the girls who were going with Nan had taken their placeson the sled. It was a new one that Nan had received as a present fromher father, and it had not yet been tested. Nan had named it the _SilverArrow_, and she had high hopes that its speed would justify the name.
Nan sat at the head, with the steering wheel in her hands. The wind hadbrought the roses to her cheeks, and her clear eyes shone like stars.Behind her in order sat Bess Harley, Rhoda Hammond, Grace Mason andLaura Polk, each girl holding tightly to the belt of the girl in front.
"All ready?" asked the professor.
"All ready, Professor," was Nan's reply, as her hands tightened on thewheel.
Professor Krenner lifted the bugle to his lips and gave a clear,sonorous blast that served at the same time as a signal for starting andas a warning to any one who might be crossing the path at the foot ofthe hill.
Then he tipped the sled over the ridge of the hill and it started on itsjourney.
For a mere fr
action of a second it seemed to poise itself for flight.Then it moved, slowly at first, but gathering speed with every second,until it seemed to be flying like an arrow from the bow.
There were delighted and at the same time somewhat fearful squeals fromthe girls, as the wind whistled past their ears while the sled flew onat a speed that quickly reached a mile a minute. They held on to eachother for dear life, but Nan had no eyes or thought for anything exceptthat shining ribbon of path.
She made the turn at the foot of the hill, the sled yielding to herslightest touch, and she only breathed freely when it shot out on thelake and there were no further obstacles to circumvent or fear.
On, on it went like a thing of life, as though it would never tire, andNan's heart beat fast as she realized that she was going to make abetter mark than she had ever done before.
But gradually the weight on the level surface began to tell, and thebobsled slowed up as though it were as reluctant as its passengers tofind itself at its journey's end.
There was a chorus of joyous exclamations from the girls, as they roseto their feet and noted how far out they were on the lake.
"What a perfectly lovely sled!" exclaimed Rhoda Hammond. "I never hadsuch a ride as that in my life."
"You darling!" said Nan impulsively, as she patted the wheel of hertreasure.
"The other girls will have to go some to come anywhere near that mark,"bubbled Bess.
"Linda will be green with jealousy," laughed Laura. "She thinks thatthat _Gay Girl_ of hers is the fastest thing that ever wore runners."
"She'll take it as a personal affront if she doesn't win," giggledGrace. "I wish she'd come along while we're here. I'd like to see justhow far we've beaten her."
"We haven't beaten her yet," observed Nan, "and perhaps it's just aswell not to be too sure. But now let's get our skates on and pull thesled back. There are to be three trials, you know."
They took their skates from their shoulders and adjusted them withnimble fingers. It was the work of only a few moments. Then they rose,patted down their dresses and struck out for the shore, drawing the sledbehind them.
They had to keep a wary lookout for the other sleds. One came rushingalong with its laughing crew, but they could see at a glance that it wasnot making the speed that their own had reached. Just as they reachedthe edge of the lake, another sled flew past, and amid the bevy of girlson it they discerned Linda Riggs.
"There goes the _Gay Girl_," remarked Rhoda Hammond.
"And she's going like the wind, too," chimed in Bess a little anxiously."Let's wait here a moment, girls. I want to see how far out she goes."
"I do hope she won't beat our mark," said Grace, as she snuggled her furmore closely about her neck.
They watched with straining eyes as Linda's sled gradually slowed up,and a sigh of relief came from all when they saw that it stopped abouta hundred feet this side of the spot that they had reached.
"She didn't beat us!" cried Bess exultantly.
"Too close to be comfortable, though," murmured Nan, as her eyesmeasured the distance.
"Well, a miss is as good as a mile," declared Rhoda.
"We're all right so far, as the man said as he was passing the secondfloor after falling seventeen stories," put in Laura.
"Let's get every ounce out of the _Silver Arrow_ on the next try,"adjured Grace, as, after having taken off their skates, they weretrudging up the hill.
By the time they reached the top, most of the other sleds had been sentoff and they had not long to wait. They settled themselves firmly intheir seats.
"Let's clinch it now," laughed Nan, as she took the wheel. "Just put onyour wishing caps and wish as hard as you can, and the _Silver Arrow_will do the rest."
"I'm wishing so hard that it hurts," gurgled Bess.
"If wishing will do it, we've won already," chimed in Laura. "We're allready, Professor."
A clear call from the bugle, a helping hand over the ridge, and the_Silver Arrow_ was off again.
It may have been due to the more slippery condition of the hill causedby the sleds that had already passed over it, but there was no doubt inthe minds of the girls that the bobsled was going even more swiftly thanit had at first. They were almost frightened at the speed it developed,and yet they were delighted, for they had set their minds on beatingtheir earlier mark.
Halfway down the hill they passed Linda and her group, who had drawn upat one side to let them pass. Even at that breakneck rate of speed theycould see the sneer on Linda's lips as she recognized the sled and itscrew.
But they were nearing the curve now and Nan's eyes were fastened on thepath ahead while she tightly gripped the wheel.
"Hold fast, girls!" she warned, as they neared the bend in the road andthe sled swerved at her touch.
The next instant they rounded the curve, and a cry of horror burst fromtheir lips.
Directly in their path was an elderly woman who had just started acrossthe road.
She looked up as she heard them scream. Terror and bewilderment cameinto her face. She started back, then forward. Then, utterly paralyzedwith fright, she stood helpless in the path of the bobsled that wasrushing toward her with the speed of an express train.
The girls shouted at her, but her brain, numbed by fear, refused to act.
"Oh, she'll be killed!" wailed Grace.
"Oh, Nan, can't you do something?" cried Bess frantically.
Nan's brain was working like lightning. She was white to the lips, butnever for an instant did she lose her presence of mind.
At the left of the road was an almost solid row of trees. It was certaindeath to turn that way. At the right there was an opening that led intoa little glade. She determined to steer into that.
She swerved the sled in that direction. She could have made it if thewoman had remained where she was. But just then she backed a step to theright. The sled struck her and hurled her aside, and she went down witha scream.