Joe wanted his three dollars at once, but they compromised by paying him half down with a promise of the other half when the work was done.
“Now for the big blowout,” chuckled Jinks, as they wended their way back to the school.
“It’ll be a scream,” gloated Bronson.
“A perfect riot,” added Hicksley, who was in high feather, now that his scheme seemed in a fair way of going through.
As for Dago Joe, he was a busy man for the rest of the day and for some time after darkness fell.
There was an unusually good supper that night in honor of the holiday, and the boys did it full justice. But they would have lingered still longer at the table, if they had not been impatient to get out on the hill for their carnival of coasting.
The wind had died down, but the air was keen and brought a frosty glow to their eyes and cheeks as they made their way to the hill, drawing their sleds behind them by ropes that hung over their shoulders.
“We’ll make a new record to-night,” said Bobby jubilantly. “I shouldn’t wonder if we fetched as far as the bridge; and we’ve never done that yet.”
“If we don’t do it to-night we never shall,” replied Fred, as they came to the hill.
“It doesn’t seem as if the sleds could ever stop when they get started on ice like this,” exulted Mouser.