Ernest went skating with the boys in the morning. The three cronies distinguished themselves by promptly getting into trouble with a crowd of Irish boys, who lived beyond the railroad in the new addition.
The Irish boys resented a certain irritating air of superiority that Ernest and his friends assumed and began a series of petty annoyances, bumping into them or crossing from the side just in front while they were racing. The boys contented themselves at first with warning off their tormentors by highhanded threats but the other lads outnumbering them grew more and more daring, till finally a boy named Pat Casey, deliberately tripped Carol, sending him sprawling on the ice. He was pretty badly shaken up and broke a skate strap. The trio considered this insult past endurance and a free-for-all fight ensued.
The trio were game, but they were outnumbered and would have fared badly if two older boys hadn’t come to the rescue and driven the other gang off the pond. The Irish boys vowed vengeance and Ernest and his friends deciding that caution was the better part of valor, started for home. Ernest’s nose had bled freely and Sherm had a black eye, while Carol plaintively declared that every inch of his fat anatomy was black and blue.
They slipped into the kitchen at Morton’s and got Alice to patch them up. After a good dinner their courage rose. Ernest had been ordered to split wood for an hour in the afternoon and the other boys took turns with him at the axe, while the three planned vengeance on their enemies.
“I saw Pat and Mike Dolan slinking past your house when I came over,” reported Sherm excitedly. “I bet they’re up to some devilment, I just wish they’d show their ugly mugs here—I guess we’d fix ’em!”
Sherm’s wish was answered with startling promptness for at that moment the “ugly mugs” just mentioned appeared over the alley fence, and their owners uttered hoots of derision. The boys bolted with one accord for the fence, but their enemies were half-way down the alley, delivering a volley of cat calls and yells as they ran. The trio vaulted the fence and pursued in vain. The others were too quick for them.
They took turns acting as sentinel at the fence for the next hour, but there was no further disturbance. Late in the afternoon as Ernest and Carol were nearing the Morton home after an errand downtown, they were met by a broadside of snow balls as they were passing an alley. It was growing dusk and the alley was shadowy, but they had no doubt as to the perpetrators of this fresh insult, and grabbing handfuls of snow, they promptly charged the offenders. They proved to be the same Pat and Mike.
“Here take this!—and this!” yelled Carol as he stuffed an icy mass down Pat’s neck and administered a stout kick in the shins as nearly simultaneously as he could manage.
Ernest was equally successful in accounting for Mike and the enemy went away spitting and threatening.
“You dassen’t show your faces out of doors tonight—allee samee!” was their parting taunt as they retreated.