now."

"I--I can't slacken up," answered Bob. "Steady, Rusher," he called out.
"Whoa, old fellow, whoa!"

But the old race horse did not intend to whoa, and on he flew as fast as
his legs would carry him, up the first hill and then onward toward the
turn before mentioned.

"Be careful at the turn, Bob!" screamed Bert. "Be careful, or we'll go
over!"

"Whoa, Rusher!" repeated Bob, and pulled in on the reins with all of his
might.

The turn where the sand pit had been was now close at hand. Here the
road was rather narrow, so they had to drive close to the opening, now
more than half filled with drifted snow. Bert clung to the cutter while
Bob continued to haul in on the reins. Then came a crash, as the cutter
hit a hidden stone and drove straight for the sand pit.

"Hold on!" cried Bob, and the next instant Bert found himself flying
out of the cutter and over the edge of the road. He tried to save
himself by clutching at the ice and snow, but it was useless, and in a
twinkling he disappeared into the sand pit! Bob followed, while Rusher
went on more gayly than ever, hauling the overturned cutter after him.

Down and down went poor Bert into the deep snow, until he thought he was
never going to stop. Bob was beside him, and both floundered around
wildly until almost the bottom of the pit was reached.