“Listen to the row up there, will you?” burst out George Cooper just then. “Why, that lot of boys seems to be having a snowball fight, don’t they? Hello! it isn’t a battle after all, but they’re pelting somebody or other. See how the balls fly like a flock of pigeons from Carl’s coop!”
“It looks like a man they’re bombarding!” ejaculated Felix.
“You’re right about that, and an old man in the bargain,” added Tom as he quickened his steps involuntarily; “I can see that bully Tony Pollock leading the lot; yes, and the other fellows must be his cronies, Wedge McGuffey and Asa Green.”
“See the poor old fellow try to dodge the balls!” exclaimed Josh. “They’re making them like ice too, and I wouldn’t put it past that lot to pack a stone in each snowball in the bargain. They’d be equal to anything.”
“Are we going to stand by and see that sport go on, boys?” asked Carl as he shut his jaws tight together, and the light of indignation shone in his eyes.
“We wouldn’t be fit to wear the khaki of scouts if we did, fellows!” cried Tom Chesney. “Come on, and let’s give them a taste of their own medicine,” and with loud shouts the five comrades started to gather up the snow as they chased pell-mell toward the scene of excitement.