"Where?" was all they said.
"Empty lot back of our house. Those boys dirtied all of Bridget's clean clothes and pelted us with mud too, besides insulting and doing lots of things to us!" said Jack, while the six comrades, friends on the spot without introductions to the two southern cousins, ran around the corner of the street.
When they reached the vacant lot, however, they hid back of the stone steps belonging to the adjoining house, and peeped about the corner to see what chances they had for a victory.
To their delight they found that the two larger boys had been called away for some reason, and only four boys of their own size were left playing ball in a half-hearted way.
"Agh! dem sissies ain't fighters! I t'ought sure dey would come ober de fence and pitch in!" said one of the ball-players to his companions.
"Yeh! So'd I. Ef Bill and Huck stayed here, we coul' have chased 'em over into their own yard and licked 'em!" said another.
At this information, George exchanged glances with Jack.
"Shall we warn them, or just fall in?" asked he.
"Did Washington send a polite letter to Howe or any of the British, when he started a fight?" was all Jack replied.
"Here you, Bob—you tackle that red-headed fellow. Dick—you take care of the fat one. Jack can fight the thin one and I'll take charge of that freckled scrawny one—I can fight better than any of you, I guess!" planned George hurriedly.