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. Crane had not waited to hear more, and had instantly pressed into service one of the horses and sleighs which had been halted near the place so that the racers might have a free course, and had started up West Hill.
As he obtained a glimpse of the crowd which soon had assembled near the place of the accident, he had needed nothing more to inform him that something of a serious nature had occurred, and leaping lightly out, he left the horse in charge of one of the boys and ran swiftly to the crowd.
The boys at once made way for him, and just as he bent over the boys Big Smith opened his eyes and stared wildly about him. Soon Henry too regained consciousness, and Mr. Crane at once proceeded to make an examination. Big Smith was declared to be all right, but with Henry it was impossible to determine whether his left arm had been broken or not. The slightly movement of it caused him intense pain, and Mr. Crane said:
"We'll have to leave that for a surgeon to determine. We'll now look at this poor boy," and turning to Jack he began to make a further investigation.
Jack was still unconscious, and soon it was decided to carry him back in the sleigh in which Mr. Crane had come. Ward pleaded that he might assist, but one look at him led the teacher to say, "You look as if you needed help yourself, Hill. No, I'll let one of the other boys assist me. Here's another sleigh," he added, as he saw that others had driven to the place. "Doubtless Boyd and Smith can be taken back in that."
The arrangements were soon completed and the three boys were carried back to the school. To the offer to carry him and the other remaining boys on the sleds, Ward said: "No, sir, I don't want any more of that at present. I can't speak for the others; but for myself I'd rather crawl back on my hands and knees. Look at 'The Arrow' too, will you?" he added. "I guess her racing days are done."
"The Arrow" was indeed in apparently a worse plight than that of any of the boys. The collision with the stone wall had torn it apart. One runner was broken loose and the seat lay several feet away from the body of the sled.
It was only about a half-mile back to the school buildings, and in the midst of the constantly increasing crowd of boys who looked upon their injured companions much as if they were heroes, the racers returned. It was a procession in striking contrast with that which had started out.
Just how they made the journey Ward never knew. He felt sore throughout the whole extent of his body, and every step caused him suffering, but somehow it was at last accomplished, and when he went up to his room, Henry was already in bed and one of the other boys, who roomed in West Hall, was there.
"How are you, Henry? Are you hurt much?" inquired Ward hastily.
"No, I think not. It's my arm that's the worst. It may be broken. The doctor is coming soon. But how are you, Ward? You look all torn into pieces."
"Oh, I'm all right," replied Ward hastily. "I got a few scratches and bumps, but some hot water and arnica will soon fix me all right."
And he proceeded immediately to carry out his own directions. But his heart was heavy when he thought of Jack and he could not entirely check the tears that rose in his eyes. Sore and bruised as he was he decided to go at once over to East Hall and learn how his friend was.
What a good fellow Jack was, thought Ward. He would share anything he had with any or all who called upon him. And Tim Pickard! His heart grew bitter and hard when he thought of Tim's dastardly trick. He had been the one to blame for the accident, for doubtless his threatened collision had been the cause of "The Arrow's" leaving the road, and the dire events which had followed.
Ward was a long time washing his wounds and bruises, and by the time he was ready to go over to East Hall, Doctor Leslie, the Weston physician, entered the room with the principal of the school.
He at once began to make an examination of Henry and in a few minutes declared, "There are no broken bones. The left arm has had a bad sprain, and he'll have to carry it in a sling for a while, but I'm confident that otherwise he's not seriously injured and will be around again in a few days."
"Do you think he had better go home?" inquired Doctor Gray anxiously.
"That remains to be seen," replied the physician; "but I hardly think it will be necessary."
"You'd better look at Ward," said Henry, his face beaming in spite of the pain he was suffering, at the doctor's verdict. "He's been hurt too."
"Only a few bruises and scratches," said Ward hastily. "But, doctor, have you seen Jack?"
Doctor Leslie's face clouded as he said: "Yes, I have just come from his room."
"How is he? How is he?" said Ward eagerly. "Is he badly hurt? I want to go over there right away."
"You can't see him, if you do go," said the physician quietly. "I've left orders with Mr. Crane for no one to be admitted into his room. He's to keep the boys in the hall quiet too, and I've telegraphed for his mother."
"Telegraphed for his mother?" said Ward aghast. "Is it as bad as that? Oh, doctor, is he going to die?"
"I trust not, but he is seriously injured. I've been compelled to amputate one of his fingers."
Ward was almost overcome by the kind-hearted physician's words and for a moment he could not speak.
"I think, Hill," said Doctor Gray sympathetically, "that you had better be in bed yourself. Doctor Leslie, isn't there something you can do for him?"
Doctor Leslie left a few directions and then departed with the principal to visit the other boys who had been on the unfortunate "Arrow." Much against Ward's will he was ordered to remain in his room that night and have his supper brought to him.
The following morning, although he felt stiff and sore, he resolutely went down to the dining hall for his breakfast. Henry was in fairly good spirits also, but he was not to leave his room that day. The reports of Jack were not very encouraging and a gloom rested over all the school when the boys assembled in the chapel. The accident of the preceding day was the one topic of conversation and the subdued manners of all the boys showed how deeply they had been touched.
At the close of the service Doctor Gray said: "It is not necessary for me to refer to the distressing accident which occurred yesterday. We all may rejoice that its effects were no worse, bad as they were. In view of the results, which might easily have been fatal, you will all readily understand why it is that from this time forward the use of so-called 'bobs' is strictly prohibited, and no coasting will be allowed except by special permission of the house teachers. I bespeak your sympathy for those who are confined to their rooms and trust you will do all in your power to aid those who are caring for them. You may now pass to your class-rooms."
As the boys filed out of the chapel, many were the words of sympathy heard for Jack Hobart. The popular light-hearted boy would have rejoiced could he have heard the many expressions of interest and good-will, but at that time he cared for none of those things. Rolling and tossing upon his bed in his room in East Hall, he uttered no sounds except an occasional moan, and even the presence of his mother, who had arrived that morning, passed unrecognized by the suffering boy.
Ward was passing to the Latin room and glanced up at the windows in Jack's room. How he did long to go there and do something to aid his friend! Never before he thought had Jack seemed so dear to him. What would life in the Weston school be without him? He almost groaned aloud at the suggestion.
He was in a measure recalled from his sadness by Little Pond who rushed up to him and said: "Ward, I just heard something."
"What is it?" said Ward, only slightly heeding the boy's eager words.
"I heard that some ashes had been sprinkled on the road where the accident occurred."
"What?" said Ward, interested in a moment.
He stopped and for several minutes conversed with his little friend and when he turned to enter the class-room, there was an expression upon his face which had never been seen there before.