"Here we go!"

"Hold on tight, everybody!"

"Let's see if we can't win!"

With shouts and laughter the merry coasters thus enlivened the race down hill. In order to make the moving pictures appear as realistic as possible Mr. Pertell had told the players to forget, for the time being, that they were actors, and to imagine that they were just boys and girls, out for a real frolic.

"And I'm sure I feel like one!" cried Alice, as she clung to the sides of the bob, where she sat behind Paul.

"That's the way to talk!" he laughed. "Look out for yourself now, we're going to bump!"

At that moment they came to a "thank-ye-ma'am," as they are called in the country.

This is a ridge, or bump in the road, made to keep the rain water from rushing down the highway too fast. The ridge turns the water to one side.

As Paul spoke the sled reached this place, rose into the air, and came down heavily.

"Gracious!" cried Alice. "I was nearly bounced off!"

"I warned you!" laughed Paul. "There's another one just below. Watch out for it."

Paul's sled was a little ahead of the one steered by Mr. Sneed, and the latter was unaware of the treacherous nature of the road. So he did not warn his fellow coasters. The result was that two of those on the rear fell off, but as they landed in soft snow they were not hurt.

"All the better!" cried Russ, who was making the pictures. "That will add to it. Keep going, Mr. Sneed!"

"If I go much farther I'll fall off!" cried the grouchy actor. "I can't hold on much longer!"

"You've got to!" ordered Mr. Pertell. "I'm not going to have this picture spoiled."

"Please don't fall off, whatever you do!" cried Ruth, who was back of Mr. Sneed. "That would leave me to do the steering and I don't know the first thing about it."

"Well, I'll do my best," he said, as graciously as he could. "Certainly I don't want to make trouble for you, Miss DeVere."

"Thank you," she said, and then as she looked ahead and saw another bump in the road, she cried:

"Look out! We're going to hit it."

Now Mr. Sneed was still suffering from the effects of the first bump, and not wishing to repeat it he sought to avoid the second by steering to one side. But in steering a long and heavy bobsled, well-laden with coasters, there is one thing to be remembered. That is, it must not be steered too suddenly to one side, for it has a propensity to "skid" worse than an automobile.

This was what happened in the case of Mr. Sneed. He turned the steering wheel suddenly, the bobsled slewed to one side, and, in another instant, had upset.

"Oh, dear!"

"We'll be killed!"

These two expressions came respectively from Miss Pennington and Miss Dixon. Some of the men cried out and a number of the girls screamed; but, after all, no one was hurt, for the snow was soft and luckily the bob rolled to one side, not hitting anyone.

The moment he realized that it was about to capsize Mr. Sneed let go of the steering wheel, and gave a jump which carried him out of harm's way, so the only mishap he suffered was a rather severe shaking up, and being covered with snow. Considerable of the white stuff got in his mouth.

"Wuff!" he spluttered. "I—gurr—will never—burr—steer—another—whew—sled!"

By this time he had cleared his mouth of snow, and repeated his determination, without the interruptions and stutterings.

"Did you get that spill, Russ?" asked Mr. Pertell, who could not keep from laughing.

"Every move of it; yes, sir!"

"Good. I think we can make use of it, though it wasn't in the scenario. But we'll have to start over again. I want to get a good close finish."

"What's that you said?" asked Mr. Sneed, as he dusted the snow from his clothes, and looked at the overturned bob.

"I said," repeated the manager, "that we'd have to do the coasting scene over again, as I wanted to show a close finish of the two sleds at the foot of the hill, and now we can't, for one is down there, and the other is up here."

This was true enough, since Paul had steered his sled properly, and had reached the foot of the slope, where he and the others waved to their less fortunate competitors.

"Well, you can have the race over again if you like," said Mr. Sneed, with decision, "but I am not going to steer. I knew something would happen if I steered a bob."

"Well, you were right—for once," conceded Mr. Pertell, with a smile. "And perhaps you are right not to want to steer again. It may not be safe."

"I'll do it!" offered Mr. Switzer. "In der old country yet I haf steered sleds bigger yet as dis von."

"All right, you may try," said Mr. Pertell. "Now then, is anyone hurt?"

"I am not, I'm glad to say," laughed Ruth, who was brushing the snow from her garments. "But it was a narrow escape."

"Indeed it was!" snapped Miss Dixon. "It was all your fault, too, Mr. Sneed!"

"My fault, how?"

"You steered to one side too quickly. Don't you try that, Mr. Switzer."

"Indeed und I vill not. You can trust me!"

"Get ready then," ordered Mr. Pertell. "Come on back!" he called to Paul and his companions at the foot of the hill.

As the story in which the coasting race figured would have to be changed to make the accident fit in, Mr. Pertell had Russ get all the incidental scenes he could, showing the overturned bob being righted, the coasters getting ready for the new race, and the other bob being pulled up hill.

Once more the rival coasters prepared to start off, with Mr. Switzer replacing Mr. Sneed. This time there was no upset, and the two sleds went down close together.

Then something new developed. Mr. Switzer spoke truly when he said he had been used to steering bobs in Germany. He knew just how to do it to get the best results, and take advantage of every favorable spot on the hill.

Paul, too, seeing that it was to be a real race, as well as one for the benefit of the moving picture audiences, exerted himself to get the best out of his sled. There is little a steersman on a bob can do except to take advantage of the easiest course. And this Paul did.

On and on went the big bobs, nearing the foot of the hill.

"This is great!" cried Mr. Pertell.

"This will be some picture!" declared Russ, with enthusiasm. "Come on, Paul, he's going to win!"

"Not if I know it!" avowed the young actor.

"Oh, don't let them get ahead of us!" cried Alice in Paul's ear.

"I'll do my best," he said, with a grim tightening of his lips.

But it was not to be. Either a little more skillful steering on the part of Mr. Switzer, or a more favorable course enabled his sled to shoot ahead, just at the finish, and he won the race.

And then a curious thing happened. The sled kept on going, and slid into a little clump of bushes, from which, a moment later, a man with a gun sprang.

This man seemed as surprised at being thus driven from his shelter as were the coasters at seeing him.

"Ha! Vot does dis mean?" demanded Mr. Switzer. "Vos you vaiting for us mit dot gun?"

Really the man did look a little menacing as he stood there with poised weapon, looking at the coasters.

"I beg your pardon," he managed to stammer, at length. "I did not see you coming."

"I guess it's our part to beg your pardon," said Mr. Sneed, who, though he did not steer the bob, had been obliged to ride on it. "We did not mean to run into you."

"No harm done; none at all," the man said. "I was hiding here, waiting for a chance to shoot at a fox that has a particularly fine pelt, but I guess I may as well give up. I heard the shouts of you folks, but I had no idea you would coast away down here."

"I didn't haf no idea like dot myself," confessed Mr. Switzer. "But if dere iss no hart feelings ve vill let comeons be bygones."

"That suits me," laughed the stranger, as he turned aside.

And, as he went away Ruth had a queer feeling that she had seen him before and under odd circumstances.

The coasting incident was over, the race had been successfully filmed, and the coasters were turning back up the hill, while Russ was demounting his camera, for there would be no more scenes taken at present.

"Did you notice that man, Alice?" asked Ruth, as she went up the hill beside her sister.

"You mean the hunter who looked as though he wanted to shoot some of us?"

"Oh, what a way to talk! But that's the one I had reference to. Did you notice him particularly?"

"Not very. Why?"

"Do you think you ever saw him before?"

Ruth put the question in such a peculiar way that Alice looked at her sharply.

"You don't mean he was one of the men who tried to get Russ's patent; do you?"

"No. I can't, for the life of me, though, think where I have seen that man before, but I'm sure I have. I thought you might remember."

Alice tried to recall the face, but could not.

"I don't believe I ever saw him before," she said, shaking her head. "He might be one of the many actors we have met on our travels, or in going around with daddy."

"No, I'm sure he never was an actor," spoke Ruth. "Never mind, perhaps it will come to me later."

And all the remainder of the day she tried in vain to recall where she had seen that face before.

Mr. Macksey seemed a trifle disturbed when told of the man being on the hill with a gun.

"One of those pesky hunters!" he exclaimed. "I've got notices posted all over the property of Elk Lodge, but they don't seem to do any good. I guess I'll have to get after those fellows and give 'em a piece of my mind. I'd like to find out where they are stopping."

The next few days were busy ones for the picture actors, and a number of dramas were filmed. In one, two snow forts were built, and the company indulged in a snowball battle before the camera.

"And now for something new," said Mr. Pertell one day, as he called the company together in the big living room of the lodge, and pointed to something piled in one corner. "You'll have to have a few days' practice, I think, so I give you fair notice."

"More coasting?" asked Mr. Sneed, suspiciously.

"No—snowshoes, this time," replied the manager. "I am going to have you all travel on them in one scene, and as they are rather awkward you had better take a few lessons."

"Lessons on snowshoes!" cried Ruth. "Who can give them to us?"

"I have a teacher," said the manager. "Russ, tell Billy Jack to come in," and there entered from the porch a tall Indian, dressed in modern garb.

Miss Pennington screamed, as did Miss Dixon, but the Indian smiled, showing some very fine and white teeth, and said in a gentle voice:

"Don't be alarmed, ladies, I have no scalping knife with me, and I assure you that you will soon be able to get about on snowshoes."