"You boys are the brakes," sang out Uncle Dick, almost as excited as the
young people themselves. "When we shout for 'Brakes!' it is up to you
twins to do your part."
"We will, sir!" cried Tommy and Teddy in unison.
"And don't hang your arms or legs over the sides," advised Uncle Dick.
"Farewell, Jack! Take care of him, Mrs. Canary. And many, many thanks for
a jolly time."
The boys and girls chorused their gratitude to the owner of Mountain Camp
and his wife. The men behind gave the pung just the tiniest push. The
runners creaked over the ice, and the forward end pitched down the slope.
They had started.
And what a ride that was! It is not likely that any of them will ever
forget it. Yet, as it proved, the danger was slight. They coasted the
entire down-grade to the little railroad station where Fred Jaroth was
telegraph operator with scarcely more peril than as though they had been
riding behind the Jaroth horses.
But they were on the _qui vive_ all the time. Bobby declared her heart was
in her mouth so much that she could taste it.
There were places when the speed threatened disaster.
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