"Hurrah! the Rovers win!"
"I tell you what, you can't get ahead of Dick Rover and his crowd!"
Peter Slade was much chagrinned to have the victory snatched from him, and began to mutter something about the race not being a fair one.
"I agree with you, it was not fair," answered Sam. "Hans' tippet caught under our runners and held us up a good deal."
"If it hadn't been for that we would have won by three times the distance," added Tom.
"Humph!" muttered Peter Slade. "I guess you jumped off once and pushed."
"I did not," answered Tom, hotly.
"I think you did."
"And I say I didn't," and now Tom doubled up his fists.
"Oh, don't quarrel," put in Larry, who was near. "If Peter isn't satisfied why not race over again?"
"I am willing," answered Dick, promptly.
"I'm tired of riding," said Slade. "I—er—I am not feeling extra well and it shakes me up too much."
"Then let some of the others use the bob."
"No, it needs overhauling, and I am going to have it fixed up," was Slade's answer, and began to move off toward the Hall, dragging his bob after him.
