"Right this way?" asked Sladder, in alarm.
"No! Kinder circlin' around. Yer can yell yer head off, Scummers, but nobody ain't goin' ter answer."
"Can't we roll it over now?" put in Sladder, eagerly.
"Best wait." Billy drew back like a shot. "Thought sure they seed me that time," he whispered. "Lay low—get down, you Bowser."
Screening themselves behind a mass of underbrush, the boys kept their eyes on the others, who, climbing the hill some distance off, were occasionally lost to view behind the trees.
Hoping that they would soon be discouraged and give up the search, Sladder and Musgrove remained silent, but as the minutes flew by they saw the Kingswood boys pushing steadily up the hill.
"Ain't this the meanest luck?" growled Sladder, in scarcely audible tones. "But they ain't a-goin' ter stop us—no, sir—they ain't. Wow! They's a-comin' this way. Stir yourself, Billy!"
"They must have heerd us, or they wouldn't have been nosin' around fur fifteen minutes," returned Musgrove, disgustedly.
Throwing aside all caution, the latter straightened up, and with Sladder at his heels, boldly walked toward the huge snowball.
"Crickets, Billy, this is 'most as heavy as lead," puffed the latter, as he attempted to roll it.