"Don't you?" asked George. "Then I'm sorry I did. I hope I didn't hurt you, or get any in your eyes."
"No," answered Russ, sort of shaking himself to let the sand sift down through the legs of his knickerbockers. "But it tickles a lot."
"Well, I won't throw any more," promised George. "But lots of times we play soldier down on the beach and we throw sand bullets. Only we don't ever throw 'em at each others' eyes. Sand in your eyes hurts like anything."
"I know it does," agreed Russ. "Mun Bun got some in his the other day and he cried a lot."
"Well, come on, let's play soldier some more," suggested George. "I'll be on Laddie's side. You go in the fort, Russ, and we'll stand against you. Two to one is fair when the one is inside a fort."
"And won't you throw any more sand bullets or cannon balls?"
"No, only paper ones."
"All right, then I'll play."
Russ went back in his fort, and Laddie and George, outside the wall of sand, began pelting him with wads of paper. But now the battle went differently. The attacking force could shoot twice as many paper bullets and balls as could Russ and they soon ran up on him, pelting him so that he had to put his hands over his head.
"All right—I surrender! I give up!" he cried.