If the defending garrison had had ammunition in supply equal to their need they might have held their fort against their foes, at least much longer. But Laura was a languid snowball maker at best, and was very tired of her task, so that one of the boys had to reinforce her while the other two fought, and with the garrison thus handicapped the victory was quick and sure for the besiegers.
Robert had been rolling snowballs as he advanced, and Happie, catching his idea, helped him. With her arms full of ammunition, and Robert's left arm laden, there was no delay between the shots which fell on the devoted heads of the defenders of the fort every time one of them popped up to fight off the assailants.
"Surrender!" ordered Robert.
"With honors?" stipulated Bob.
"Certainly. March out with colors flying, gallant garrison—provided you can find your colors, which my amazonian general knocked to smithereens," returned Robert. Bob and Ralph had provided themselves against defeat. Three combs were the main part of their provision, supplemented by tissue paper—the instruments of a military band. Bob picked up the broken flagstaff with its flag still pendant. Shouldering it, he placed himself at the head of his men, Ralph, Snigs, Laura, the ammunition maker. These three played "Down Went Maginty," in the slowest possible time, with immense expression—it sounded like a dirge.
"We shall proceed to raze your fort, under the terms of the surrender," announced Robert. Strictly speaking there had been no terms stipulated in the surrender, but before the siege began it had been agreed that the defeated fort should be destroyed. "I feel like Marius," Robert added.
"Suppose we take a hand," suggested Bob.
"Take a foot," corrected Ralph, setting the example by kicking a hole in the wall he had just been defending. "The sooner it's over the sooner to eat."
It did not take long to knock down the walls. "Now, this cruel war is over," announced Robert. "What time do we sup to-night?"