"We're going to push him off th' sled," said the other boy, with a dreadful grin.
At this Joel looked all around in despair for a moment to see if any one was coming who would help. "Davie's ankle. O dear me!" he thought. So he got between the sled and the biggest boy. "You let him alone!" he cried sturdily, setting his teeth tight together.
"Hoh--hoh--'fraid-cat--'fraid-cat!" laughed both boys, hopping about in glee, and singing over and over, '"Fraid-cat--'fraid-cat!"
Joel clenched his little brown hands together tightly. It was hard work not to fly at them and pommel away. "But Davie's ankle--dear--dear!" So he held his breath and kept still.
Suddenly both boys made a rush at David, meaning to make him eat snow and have one ball thrust down his back at one and the same time, but Joel was too quick for them, and the first thing they knew, as David gave a scream at their approach, two hard little fists were pommelling them to right and left.
"Stop it!" they cried. But Joel didn't know how to stop; he pounded away so much and so fast, and they didn't exactly seem to know where he was going to strike next, that in a few minutes both boys were crying as hard as they could.
"'Fraid-cat! 'Fraid-cat!" sang Joel, dancing around them, and swinging his fists in the liveliest fashion.
"Joel Pepper!" exclaimed a voice, suddenly, that made all the boys skip, while little Davie shook in much worse apprehension than he did before. "Fighting in the public road! Well, I never heard anything so dreadful!"
Joel whirled around, his fists still ready. "I ain't fighting," he denied stoutly. It was Miss Jerusha, Parson Henderson's sister.
"And it's bad enough to fight, without telling a lie about it," said Miss Jerusha, holding up her black gloves in horror. "I ain't fighting. And I didn't tell a lie," declared Joel. "And you mustn't say so," he added, advancing on her with blazing eyes.