A few rods behind, Tim and Charlie had upset, Tim
falling head over heels into the snow at the side of the road and
Charlie tumbling almost directly into the path of a coming sled. The
boy steering, however, managed to swing out and avoid the limp and
flattened Charles.
"Some spill," commented Bobby, using the slang he was learning in the
school yard and putting out his foot as a brake, bringing his own sled
to a standstill. "I'll bet that torn piece of runner caught on
something."
They stood for a moment watching Charlie crawl out of the road and Tim
scrambling out of the snow. Then they walked slowly up the hill for a
last grand coast.
"'Cause it's getting dark," said Meg, "and Mother said we must come in
at five o'clock. Let's ask Dave what time it is."
"Twenty minutes to five," said Dave, when they asked him. "Want to go
down on the bob?"
"Oh, Bobby, can we?" Meg clapped her hands with delight. "I've never
been on one. Come on, let's."
"What'll we do with our sleds?" asked Bobby doubtfully.
"Let Hester and me coast down on 'em, and then we'll keep 'em at the
big tree till you come," suggested Palmer Davis.
Palmer had been using his tin tray cheerfully all the afternoon, but he
did wish for a sled like Bobby's. If Bobby consented to his plan, he
would have at least one good ride.
"All right, take 'em," said Bobby, giving his sled to Palmer.
Meg handed hers over to Hester Scott, who likewise had none of her own
and had to watch her friends coasting, or hang on wherever there was
room.
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