The boys were in for it. Nevertheless, they listened to the prolonged tirade with suppressed amusement. Its conclusion was an order to the quartette to go down on the walk again.
"They won't touch a hair of your heads now," she boasted unwisely.
Again came the stinging volleys on the sheeted figures. A few of the peas flew by chance, or otherwise, in the direction of the protectress, herself.
"Come into the house this minute," she called to her brood. "I'll fix 'em."
The door slammed angrily. Through a front window, the boys could see her at the telephone in the lighted hallway. They redoubled the bombardment of the house in defiance.
Across the street a door creaked. Mrs. Alford's voice carried to where the excited little group stood.
"Per-e-e-e, it's nearly seven. Supper is ready. Come in and get washed right away!"
The "Tigers" gasped and dispersed quickly. Half-past six was the deadline for the evening meal with most of them, and parental scoldings were in order.
"See you at eight," Silvey called as he turned north.
John stopped short. Hang that party!