Max was rather a lazy fellow, and he always let the smaller boys do his work—if they would agree. He was good natured enough about it.
He sat down in a sheltered place, and had Bobby and Fred cut the under branches of the firs for firewood, and they soon had a nice little fire going.
This might attract the attention of the enemy to the fort, but Max did not care for that.
"You boys keep on making snowballs. You'll have to make them outside the fort—down on the ice, there, and then you can draw them in on the sleds. Get busy now."
"What are you going to do?" demanded Ginger Martin, rather perkily.
"Never you mind, youngster," returned Max. "You never read of the officers in authority getting on the firing line, do you? I've got to stay up here and keep watch, and plan the defense of the island."
"Oh, crickey!" exclaimed Ginger, scornfully. "You're a regular Napoleon—not!"
And it was a fact that, had the younger boys holding the fort depended upon Bender's watchfulness, the Beldenites would have been upon them unannounced.
Naturally the boys making snowballs did so on the side of the island facing Rockledge School. The island hid from them the Belden side of the lake.
But suddenly Bobby, who had dragged in a heavy sled load of snowballs, and was packing them securely in a pile behind an upper fortification, chanced to stand up to stretch his limbs and looked over the breastwork.