For a brief space the coasting continued without especial incident. However, this was only a lull, during which the South Beauforters were but biding their chance. Presently it came.
As they artfully lingered around their bob-sled, at the end of the track, they saw Ned, head on, sweeping toward them upon his clipper. Just as he reached them they neatly jerked their heavy bob square across his path. There was no time for him to swerve. With a thud he struck broadside the rearmost of the two sleds. The clipper stopped short, as though killed; but Ned himself went plunging on, clear over the bob, to plough the snow and slush with face and hands and stomach.
He scrambled up wet, furious, yet willing, if allowed, to accept the mishap as a bit of rude joking. He felt that discretion was here the better part of valor.
However, he was not given any choice in the matter.
"Say," accosted Big Mike, again, as Ned walked forward, while brushing himself off, to get his sled, "what do you mean by runnin' into us? Ain't you got eyes?"
"I couldn't help it," said Ned. "I didn't have time to turn out."
"You did, too," snarled a Conner, giving Ned's innocent clipper a vicious kick into the ditch.
"I didn't. You pulled your bob across the track on purpose--you know you did," accused Ned, goaded beyond bearing.
The words were attracting a little knot of spectators and listeners, and as Ned started to rescue his beloved sled from the ditch Bob nosed into the circle, seeking him. Whereupon a South Beauforter planted his toe in Bob's astonished ribs.
"Ki yi! yi, yi, yi!" yelped Bob, and the sound was to Ned a bugle call to action.
"Here--you'd better not do that again!" he warned, returning with a spring.
"Do what again?" demanded Big Mike, threateningly.
"Hurt that dog. He's never done anything to you," asserted Ned, his blood up in defense of his faithful partner.
"Aw, who's hurtin' yer dog?" scoffed Big Mike--at the same instant aiming another blow at Bob, shivering close against his master's legs.
Ned responded with a violent shove that nearly took the South Beauforter off his feet.
Amid this clamor from his backers Big Mike doubled his fists and stuck his face close up to Ned's.
"Who you shovin', anyway?" he snarled, treading on Ned's toes, at the same time shouldering him violently backward.