“No; ’tain’t likely. But they’ll try somethin’. Don’t you ever b’lieve they’re goin’ to g-g-give up.”
“We’ve got ’em beat easy,” says I.
Mark shook his head. “I could tell ’em somethin’,” says he, “that would lick us in a minute.”
“It’s lucky we’re fightin’ against them instead of you,” says I, sarcastic-like. “How’d you go about it to capture the cave?”
“Well,” says he, “the first thing I’d do would be to make sh-sh-sh-sh—”
“Whistle,” says I.
“Shields,” he finished up with a rush.
Nothing to it, was there, except thinking of it? It would be the simplest thing in the world for Batten and Bill to come climbing right up in our faces if they were sheltered from our pebbles behind some kind of a shield. They could keep right on a-coming and laugh at us while they were doing it.
“They’ll never think of it,” says I.
“It’s only a question of time,” stuttered Mark. “What I’m wonderin’ is, will they think of it before help comes from Wicksville?”