“All right. We’ll work on it late tonight.”
And so the sound of hammer, plane and saw was heard in the old barn, where the sled was being built, until nearly ten o’clock.
“She ought to go very fast!” exclaimed Charley, as they paused to look at their sled.
“I’m sure she will,” agreed Bert. “And we’ll put some carpet on the top of the main board, for a cushion for some of the girls.” His chum agreed that this would be a good plan, and so the bob was made very attractive for the girls.
Bert and Charley took the big sled out for a private trial on a little hill behind the barn without telling anyone about it. They slid down very swiftly, and as they were walking up again Bert said:
“I think we have a fast one all right, Charley.”
“I’m sure we have,” was the answer.
“It will pass anything on the main hill,” went on Bert, and his friend believed him.
The storm kept up all night, and in the morning there was snow enough to suit anyone. Bert laughed as he looked out of the window and saw it.
“There’ll be coasting now all right!” he cried, as he saw the big stretch of white over the fields and on the hills. “We can have bob sled races, too.”
“Can’t we come?” asked Flossie.
“We like sled rides,” added Freddie.
“You may come part of the time,” answered Bert. “But big sleds aren’t for little folks like you.”
Not far from the Bobbsey home was a long hill that was most excellent for coasting. It was on this that Charley and Bert had decided to test their new sled on a long stretch.
As they hauled it from the barn where it had been made, and started to pull it to the hill, there were many laughs at the odd homemade affair. For Bert and Charley had done most of the work themselves, and it was rather rough.
“She’ll never coast!” cried one boy, with a laugh. He was quite a friend of Danny’s.
“Here comes the sled that can, though!” cried another, and Danny himself came into view, pulling a fine, new, big bob after him.
“That’s the fastest one on the hill,” boasted another lad who was helping Danny pull his sled.
“Well, I think ours is fast, too,” said Bert calmly.
“Do you want to race?” asked Danny with a sharp glance at Bert.
“I don’t mind,” was the answer. It was after school, following the first snow, and the hill was just right for coasting.
“Come on! Come on!” cried a number of boys and girls, as they heard what went on between Danny and Bert. “There’s going to be a race on the big hill between the big bobs.”
There was much excitement. The sleds were the two largest owned by anyone in the neighborhood, and both were fine ones. Danny had bought his, but Bert and Charley had made theirs, and so, though it was not so fancy, it was stronger. Most eyes were on Danny’s sled, for it was painted in bright colors, and brightly varnished. It had a red cushion of carpet on the top, and places at the side to rest one’s feet.
The bob of Bert and Charley was built just the same, but it was painted in homemade fashion, and the carpet seat was an old and faded one. But it had a new gong and a fine big steering wheel.
“All ready for the race,” cried Danny, as he got his sled in position. “Who’s going down with me?”
A number of boys came forward.
“Who’s going with Bert and me?” asked Charley, and several others stepped forward.
“Go ahead, if you want to come in last!” sneered Danny, as he got his sled in place. “I’ll tell ’em you’re coming, Bert.”
“All right,” was the cool answer. “Get in, boys!”
Soon both sleds were filled, and all was ready for the big race—the first of the season.
CHAPTER XVIII
A Night Alarm
“Are you all ready?” called Danny to Bert, looking over at the homemade bob, and there was something like contempt in his tone.
“All ready,” answered Bert. “I’ll start as soon as you give the word.”
“We ought to have someone to shove us off,” suggested Danny. “It won’t be fair if one or the other gets a headstart.”
“Hi! He’s afraid already!” cried Charley Mason. “He knows we’re going to beat!”
“I am not!” retorted Danny. “It will be a walkover for me once I start. But I don’t want Bert Bobbsey saying I took advantage of him, after the race is over.”
“You needn’t be afraid—I won’t say so—I won’t have to,” replied Bert. “All the same I think it would be better if we each had a push. I want to be fair, too.”
“Hey, Bert!” called a shrill voice, as the elder Bobbsey lad was looking about for some on the hill to whom he might appeal. “Can’t I ride down with you, Bert?”
It was Freddie who called, and he came running up, anxious to take part in the exciting race.
“No, Freddie, not this time,” explained Bert kindly. “I want only large boys with me in the race. I’ll give you a ride afterward.”
“After I beat him, he means,” sneered Danny.
“Come on, let’s race if we’re going to,” called some of the boys on Danny’s sled.
“Yes; don’t stay here all day.”
“Get a move on!”
“We’ll beat, anyhow, what’s the use of racing?”
There were only a few of things that those on the big new sled of Danny’s, called to those on Bert’s bob. On their part Bert’s friends voiced such remarks as:
“We’re not so strong on looks, but we’ll get there first!”
“We’re going to give Danny a tow to the bottom of the hill!”
“He won’t know he’s moving, once Bert’s sled gets started going!”
“Well, what are we going to do?” asked Danny at last. “Shall we shove off ourselves?”
Just then there came along two large boys, Frank Cobb, and his particular chum, Irving Knight.
“What’s going on here; a race?” asked Frank.
“It looks that way,” said Irving.
“Oh, will you push us off?” begged Bert, appealing to Frank, whose father worked in Mr. Bobbsey’s lumber yard.
“Sure we will,” answered Frank goodnaturedly. “Take the other sled, Irving,” he said to his chum, “and we’ll give ’em an even start. Then we’ll see which beats, and may the best sled win!”
“That’s what I say!” cried Irving.
The two larger boys took their places behind the bobs. They slowly shoved them to the edge of the hill, held them there a moment, and, at a nod to each other, shoved them down evenly.
“Hurray!” cried the crowd of other coasters. “There they go!”
“And Danny’s ahead!” said some of his friends.
“No, Bert’s sled is!” shouted his admirers.
As a matter of fact, though, both sleds were even at the start. On and on they went very swiftly, for the hill had been worn smooth. Then Bert saw his bob getting ahead a little, and he felt that he was going to win easily.
But he was glad too soon, for, a little later, Danny’s sled shot ahead, and for some distance was in the lead.
“Can’t you beat him, Bert?” whispered Charley Mason, who sat just behind his chum.
“I hope so,” was the answer. “But I can’t really do anything. We just have to depend on the sled, you know.”
“Steer a little more over to the left,” suggested another boy. “It looks smoother there.”
“I will,” said Bert, and he turned the steering wheel of his bob while Luke Morton, in the rear, pulled hard on the bell, making it clang out a loud warning.
“Look out where you’re going, Bert Bobbsey!” warned Danny, looking back.
“You’re coming over on my side of the hill!”
“No I’m not. I’m away from the middle even,” said Bert. “Besides, I’m behind you.”
“I know you are, and you’re going to stay there; but I don’t want you to run into me.”
On, on and on dashed the big bobs, with the crowd on the hill, and a number of coasters scattered along the way, watching anxiously. As soon as Bert had steered over to the left his sled began to go faster, as the snow was packed better there. He was fast catching up to Danny, when one of the boys on that bob, looking back, saw it, and warned the steersman.
“He’s coming, Danny,” he cried.
“Oh, he is; eh? Well, he won’t pass me,” and Danny steered his sled over directly in front of Bert’s, almost causing Bert to collide with him.
“Shame!” cried some watchers. “That wasn’t fair!”
“Let him keep on his own side then,” warned Danny.
But this mean trick did Danny little good for, though Bert was forced to go to the right, to avoid crashing into Danny, he, most unexpectedly, found good coasting there, and he shot ahead until his sled was even with that of the bully’s.
“Better look out, Danny,” warned the boy sitting directly back of him.
“He’s crowding us fast.”
“Oh, it’s only a spurt. We’ll soon be at the bottom of the hill and win.”
On and on came Bert’s bob, the Flier. It was a little ahead of Danny’s now, and the latter, seeing this, steered over, thinking the going was better there.
“Look out!” warned Bert. “Who’s crowding over now?”
“Well, I’ve got a right here!” snarled Danny.
But Bert knew his rights also, and would not give away. He held to his place, and Danny dared not come too close. Then, as Bert found himself on smooth, hardpacked snow, he steered as straight as he could. More and more ahead of Danny he went, until he was fully in front of him.
“We’re going to win! We’re going to win!” cried Bert’s friends. “We’re going to win the race!”
Danny was wild with anger. He steered his sled over sharply, hoping to get on the same track as was Bert and so pass him. But it was not to be. Danny took too sudden a turn, and the next instant his bob overturned, spilling everyone off.
There was a cry of surprise at the accident, and some of those on Bert’s sled looked back. Bert himself looked straight ahead as a steersman always should.
“Danny’s upset!” cried Charley.
“I’m sorry!” said Bert. “Now he’ll claim the race wasn’t fair.”
And that is what Danny did when he picked himself up, and walked down to meet Bert, whose bob got safely to the foot of the hill, and so won the race.
“Aw, I’d have beaten if you hadn’t gotten in my way so I had to steer over,” cried Danny.
“Don’t talk that way now,” said Irving, who, with Frank Cobb had come to the end of the hill. “Bert beat you fair and square.”
“Aw, well,” grumbled Danny.
“I’ll race over again, if you like,” offered Bert.
“Yes, and do the same thing,” grumbled Danny. “I will not. I know my sled is the best.”
But few others, save those who hoped for a ride on it, agreed with the bully, and Bert’s homemade bob was held to be champion of the hill.
Then came many more coasts, Bert giving Nan and Flossie and Freddie, and a number of their little girl and boy friends, several rides.
Until late that evening the coasting kept up, and Bert and Charley were congratulated on all sides for the fine bob they had made. And what fun Bert had home after supper, telling of how he had won the race!
It was in the middle of the night, when the Bobbsey household was awakened by the ringing of fire bells. They all heard the alarm, and as Papa Bobbsey counted the number, he said to his wife:
“That must be near here. Guess I’ll look. It’s a windy night and a fire in my lumber yard would be very bad.”
As he went to the window he saw a glare on the sky in the direction of the lake.
“It is near here!” he said. “The engines are going past our house! I’d better take a look.”
“Can I come?” asked the little “Fat Fireman” from his cot. “Take me, papa!”
CHAPTER XIX
Who Was Smoking?
Mr. Bobbsey laughed, though he was worried about the fire. It seemed so odd for Freddie to want to go out in the cold, dark night.
“Not this time, my Fat Fireman!” said Freddie’s papa. “It may be only a pile of rubbish on fire. I’ll tell you about it when I come back.”
“Where does it seem to be?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
“Down near the lake,” answered her husband. “I’m afraid, he added in a lower voice, that it may be our boathouse. It seems to be about there.”
“Oh, I hope not!” she exclaimed. “Still, better that than our own house.”
“If it’s near the lake, papa,” said Flossie who heard part of what her father said, “it will be easy to put it out, for there is plenty of water.”
“Pooh! engines have their own water!” exclaimed Freddie, who had rather hazy notions as to how fire engines work. He was getting over his disappointment about not being allowed to go with his father, and had again cuddled down in his warm crib.
Another engine dashed by the Bobbsey house, and the ringing of the alarm bell increased. The voices and footsteps of many persons, as they rushed on to the blaze, could also be heard, and there resounded the cry of:
“Fire! Fire! Fire!”
Bert, who had been aroused with the others of the household, was dressing in his room. He felt that his father would let him go to the fire. At any rate he intended to be all ready when he made his request, so as not to cause delay.
“Are you going, Bert?” asked Nan, as from her room, next to that of her brother, she heard him moving around.
“I am, if father will take me,” he said.
“It’s too cold for me!” Nan exclaimed with a shiver, as she went back in bed again. She had gotten up to peer from the window at the red glare in the sky.
From the third floor, where Dinah slept, the colored cook now called down:
“Am anybody sick, Mrs. Bobbsey? What am de mattah down dere?”
“It’s a fire, Dinah!” answered her mistress.
“Oh good land a’massy! Don’t tell me dat!” she cried. “Sam! Sam! Wake up. De house is on fire an’ you’se got t’ sabe me!”
“No, no, Dinah!” cried Mrs. Bobbsey, to calm the cook. “It isn’t this house. It’s down by the lake. If you look out of your window you can see it.”
Dinah hurried across to her window, and evidently saw the reflection of the blaze, for she exclaimed:
“Thank goodness it ain’t yeah! Mah goodness, but I suah was skarit fo’ a minute!”
By this time Mr. Bobbsey had dressed, and had started downstairs. Bert came out of his room, also ready for the street.
“May I come, father?” he asked.
“Well, I declare!” exclaimed Mr. Bobbsey, in surprise. “So you got dressed too, did you?”
“Yes, sir. May I come?”
Mr. Bobbsey hesitated a moment, and then, with a smile, said:
“Well, I suppose so, since you are all ready. I’m taking Bert,” he called to his wife. “Freddie, you’ll have to be the Fat Fireman while I’m gone, and look after the house.”
“That’s what I will,” said Freddie, “and if any sparks fly over here I’ll throw the bath room sponge on ’em!”
“Good!” cried Mr. Bobbsey, and then, he and Bert hurried out.
The fire was now larger, as they could see when they got out in the street. There was no wind and the flames went straight up in the air. There were not many buildings down by the lake, only some boat shelters and places like that. The Bobbsey’s boathouse was a fine large one, having recently been made bigger as Mr. Bobbsey was thinking of buying a new motor boat.
Mr. Bobbsey and his son hurried on, following the crowd that filled the street leading to the lake. Se
veral gentlemen knew the lumber merchant, and called to him.
“I guess you’re glad this isn’t your lumber yard,” said one.
“Yes, indeed,” was the answer. “I had a little fire there once, and I don’t want another. But I’m afraid this is some of my property just the same.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, it looks to be my boathouse.”
“So it does!” cried another man.
“Oh, father!” cried Bert. “Our nice boathouse!”
“Well, the firemen may save it,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “We will hope so, anyhow,” he added.
They had not gone on much farther before Mr. Bobbsey and Bert could see that it was indeed their boathouse on fire. One side was all ablaze, and the flames were slowly, but surely, eating their way over the whole place. But two engines were now pumping streams of water on the fire, and they might put it out before too much damage was done.
Mr. Bobbsey rushed forward, and, as the policemen and firemen knew him, they let him get close to the boathouse.
“You stay here, Bert,” said Mr. Bobbsey to his son.
“Where are you going?” Bert wanted to know.
“I’m going to see if we can save any of the boats.”
There was a sailing craft, a number of rowboats, and a small gasoline launch in the boathouse. They had been stored away for the winter.
“Come on, men!” cried Mr. Bobbsey, as he saw some of his workmen in the crowd. “Help me save the boats!”
All rushed forward willingly, and, as there was part of the place where the flames had not yet reached, they could make their way into the house. They began lowering the boats into the icy water, while the firemen played the several lines of hose on the flames.
The third engine was now working, and so much water was pumped that even a larger fire could not have stood it for very long. The blaze began to die down, and when Mr. Bobbsey and his men were about to lower the gasoline launch into the icy water the chief ran up, saying:
“You don’t need to do that! We’ve got the fire under control now. It will soon be out.”
“Are you sure?” asked the lumber merchant.
“Yes. You can see for yourself. Leave the boat there. It will be all right.”
Mr. Bobbsey looked, and was satisfied that the larger part of the boathouse would be saved. So he and his men stopped their work; and went outside to cool off.
The Bobbsey Twins Megapack Page 44