Skinny's long arms made him a welcome addition to any force and a warrior to be feared at all times. Occasionally he performed feats of marksmanship which not even the two redoubtable leaders could equal.
The group of boys drew closer. Perry Alford lagged with seeming nonchalance, a step in the rear of his more eager play-fellows. Sid DuPree picked up a pebble and threw it unerringly toward a railroad fence post as John eyed him regretfully.
If only that youngster had not such a reputation for quitting under fire, time and again during their many mimic battles! Then his glance fell upon Red Brown's impudent, freckled face and he smiled. Here was a warrior with a temperament to delight the leader of a forlorn hope.
"Come on, Red!"
Sid was promptly seized upon by the rival commander.
"Perry Alford," said John.
The remaining half-dozen mediocrities were divided without further ado. Then the two leaders stepped gravely to one side and discussed the rules for the approaching conflict, while the rank and file of the two armies, twelve strong, amused themselves by wrestling, throwing bits of stone and glass up on the railroad tracks, and engaging in impromptu games of tag.
"Each fellow gets twenty cucumbers," concluded John. "That'll leave some for fun, later. If a man gets hit three times, he's a deader and has to quit. Side wins when the other fellows are killed, same as it was last year."
Silvey nodded and beckoned to his clan. The Fletcherites were about to withdraw to the opposite side of the field when an unforeseen interruption occurred.
"Wanta fight!" announced a tousled-headed, wash-suited five-year-old with determination.