Just as he spoke, a ball of the feathery particles sizzled through the air, struck him forcibly on the shoulder, and splattered in his face.
"Just a bit of a lark, I guess!" cried Bob, "but it shouldn't be so one-sided. Come on, fellows!"
With one accord, they dashed through the snow, which, though the night was dark, could be plainly seen. In a moment, they reached the base of the hill, and rounded the other side.
Nothing there—but a wild expanse of nature, melting into gloom, gaunt trees and underbrush—nothing but night and an icy wind sighing through the tree-tops and making the bushes shiver and rattle.
"My eye! This is funny," cried Hackett, scratching his head.
"Christopher! It's the strangest yet," panted Nat. "Where did he get to—or where did they get to?"
"That's what we would like to know," said little Tom Clifton.
"An axiom," observed Dave, "is a self-evident fact."
"Did an axiom make the snowballs, fire 'em over, and plunk Somers in the face?" grinned Hackett.
"No, but somebody did, which is the axiom I mean."