"You'll see when the time comes," replied Murtagh, whose ideas were in truth very vague. He felt only sure of one thing, which was that he meant to do something.
"I don't mind what it is," said Winnie; "I'm ready for anything!"
"So am I," said Bobbo; "only I vote we don't hurt the poor beggars if we can help it."
"No; because it's not their fault you know, Myrrh," decided Winnie.
"No; but we can't let them land here!" replied Murtagh, determinately. "If they will get hurt, we can't help it. Now look here, we had better collect a lot of bits of wood, and clods, and things, and pile them up in front here, where we can get at them easily. They are sure to come up this front way."
"Oh," cried Winnie, in delight, "you're going to pelt them! Then let us get some of that stiff yellow mud from the bank. It will do gloriously!"
"Here they come!" cried Murtagh, springing from his seat by the fire and hurrying out to reconnoitre.
The others hastily followed. Through a gap in the bushes they saw two empty carts coming down the road. The driver of each was seated on the shaft smoking a short pipe, and in the corner of one of the carts were visible the handles of picks and mallets.
"Yes," exclaimed Murtagh, "it's them! Now we're in for it! Royal, old boy, are you ready?"
The faces of the other children beamed with excitement. Royal understood well enough that something unusual was the matter, for he answered Murtagh's appeal by a short yap and a pricking up of his ears which meant business. Even Rosie was so carried away by the excitement of the approaching battle as to exclaim in sympathy with Winnie's dancing eyes, "Isn't it jolly?"