“Flag of truce, fellows!” he called.
“All right,” answered Cupples. “What do you want?”
“We’ve taken Small prisoner,” announced Ben, “and we’re going to wash his face with snow unless you give in.”
A howl of protest from Small pierced the air.
“We’ll yield with all the honors of war,” announced Cupples after a hurried conference.
“What’s that?” asked Ben.
“You fellows are not to touch us,” said Cupples, “and we’re to have the use of this slide whenever we want it.”
“We won’t touch you,” replied Ben, “and you and Crandall can slide here. But those other little ruffians must keep off.”
Cupples looked inquiringly at Crandall. The latter shook his head. “Tell him they must let the juniors slide too.”
Cupples did so. Ben conferred. Small, captive between two of the day boys, waited anxiously. At last Ben turned toward the platform again.