“Fine!” laughed Bert. “We got in some good ones. But they’ll make it hot for us when they come back.”
“I wonder if they’ll catch Harold and Sewall,” said Lanny. “There’s someone coming now.”
Into the dim radiance of the two lights on the platform came two boys dragging a toboggan. They were Ben and Stanley Pierce.
“I say,” whispered Bert, “let’s get up there ahead and keep them off. We can do it. Take all the snowballs you’ve got, fellows.” And Bert started for the steps on the run. Had the others had time to reflect they might have hesitated. As it was, they followed at once and had gained the platform before Ben and Pierce had reached the foot of the steps. When they did reach them a snowball, sent with beautiful accuracy, banged against Ben’s woolen cap and another hummed past Pierce’s head. The seniors stopped and held a council of war.
“Quit that, you kids,” shouted Ben threateningly.
“We’ll come up there and give you fellows a good licking,” added Pierce.
“Come on!” jeered Lanny, the joy of battle thrilling him. “Try it!”
They did try it, but such a shower of snowballs met them as soon as they set foot on the steps that they thought better of it. For a minute or so they fashioned missiles and retaliated, but throwing up at the platform was difficult work and their snowballs either sailed harmlessly overhead or wasted themselves against the boards. Then two boys with a toboggan came into sight, running hard, and Ben hailed them.
“Come on, you fellows! The kids have got the slide!”
The newcomers paused without answering.