"Boys don't fight that way, and you ought to know it," said Mollie. "I detest fighting myself, but I know that when it is done right—if ever there is such a time—there is no biting and scratching."
"Well, I've seen some football games," spoke Grace, and she wondered why Mollie laughed.
The girls were rather surprised, on coming to a point where they could look down on the boys, to see merely a snow battle in progress. The air seemed filled with the flying white missiles, and the four rivals were running back and forth, looking for vantage points. Allen hovered about, seeing that no unfair tactics were used.
Finally, as the girls started forward again, Grace much relieved in mind, Sam Batty pulled out his handkerchief and waved it.
"What's that for?" asked Grace.
"Flag of truce, probably. Very likely he's had enough."
"Oh, Will is down!" cried Grace a moment later, as her brother slipped and fell. Jake rushed forward to deliver a ball at close range, but Allen held up his hand.
"No hitting when one is down!" he decided, and Jake drew back. Then, as Will scrambled to his feet again, the battle was renewed, only two being engaged, however.
As Will vainly dodged a ball aimed at him, which struck him in the face, Grace screamed. Her brother turned quickly.
"What is it?" cried Will, in some alarm.