Part 23 (1/2)

”Brakes!” called Sara again.

Once more the iron claw dug in, sending up a spray of snow behind the racing sled. And then there came a strange, pinging sound.

For the briefest instant Penny did not comprehend its significance. Then, as the sled leaped ahead faster than ever and the geyser of snow vanished, she realized what had happened. The brakes were useless! A rod had snapped! They were roaring down the track with undiminished speed, and Horseshoe Curve, the most dangerous point on the run, lay directly ahead.

CHAPTER 15 _IN THE TOOL HOUSE_

Sara, her face white and tense, turned her head for a fraction of a second and then, crouching lower, kept her eyes glued on the track. She knew what had happened, and she knew, too, that they never could hope to make the Horseshoe Curve. Even a miracle of steering would not save them from going over the wall of ice at terrific speed.

The two pa.s.sengers, frozen with fright, gripped the side ropes, and kept their heads down. It did not even occur to them that they could save themselves by rolling off. For that matter, they did not realize that the brake had broken.

Penny, in end position, could have jumped easily, A fall into the soft snow beside the track would be far less apt to cause serious injury than an upset from the high wall of the curve. But it never occurred to her to try to save herself.

There was only one slim chance of preventing a bad accident, a costly one for herself, and Penny took it. As the perpendicular wall of Horseshoe Curve loomed up ahead, she wrapped her arm about the side rope of the sled and hurled herself off. Her entire body was given a violent jerk. A sharp pain shot through her right arm, but she gritted her teeth and held on.

Penny's trailing body, acting as a brake, slowed down the sled and kept it from upsetting as it swept into the curve. Sideways it climbed the wall of snow. It crept to the very edge, hovered there a breathless moment, then fell back to overturn at the flat side of the curve.

Untangling herself from a pile of arms and legs, Sara began to help her pa.s.sengers to their feet.

”Penny, are you hurt?” she asked anxiously. ”That was a courageous thing to do! You saved us from a bad accident.”

Spectators, thrilled by the display of heroism, came running to the scene. Penny, every muscle screaming with pain, rolled over in the snow.

Gripping her wrenched arm, she tried to get to her feet and could not.

”Penny, you _are_ hurt!” cried Sara.

”It's my arm, more than anything else,” Penny said, trying to keep her face from twisting. ”I--I hope it's not broken.”

Willing hands raised her to her feet and supported her. Penny was relieved to discover that she could lift her injured arm.

”It's only wrenched,” she murmured. ”Anyone else hurt, Sara?”

”You're the only casualty,” Sara replied warmly. ”But if you hadn't used yourself as a brake we might all have been badly injured. You ought to get a hot bath as quickly as you can before your muscles begin to stiffen.”

”They've begun already,” replied Penny ruefully.

She took a step as if to start for the lodge, only to hesitate.

”I wonder what happened to the brake? I heard something give way.”

Sara overturned the sled and took one glance. ”A broken rod.”

”I thought Jake checked over everything last night.”

”That's what he _said_,” returned Sara. ”We'll ask him about it.”

The workman, white-faced and frightened, came running down the hill.