Part 21 (2/2)

”All right--you come and tell us if they start anything.”

”Whew, better pull the shades down!” said Carol as they entered the brightly lighted kitchen.

Alice looked up quickly. ”What for? n.o.body can see in here at the back of the house.”

”Oh, there might some of the boys be hanging round to steal the candy when we put it out to cool,” answered Sherm easily, trying to be off-hand.

Alice set out the mola.s.ses and b.u.t.ter and sugar and went off up to her room. The boys pulling the shades carefully down, set to work, and became so absorbed in the candy that they almost forgot their foes for the next ten minutes. Just as they were lifting the sticky ma.s.s from the stove Chicken Little tore in.

”Boys, I guess they've heard you, because one boy came and told those two boys something and they all ran round to the back of the house--just now--and there were four! Oh, you must be awfully careful! Listen, wasn't that somebody at the door?”

There was an audible crunching of the snow outside. The door was bolted, but all four children stood for an instant with their gaze riveted upon it as if they expected to see it burst open at any moment.

”Pooh, they can't do anything!” said Ernest coming to himself, ”and the candy'll be all spoiled.”

”Say, let's go up to the north room and slip out on the kitchen room while the candy cools. I bet we can see 'em from there.”

The boys set the candy in a pan of snow to cool and bolted softly up the stairs. Dr. and Mrs. Morton placidly reading in the sitting room were blissfully unaware of the excitement.

”I wonder what makes the boys so quiet tonight?”

The boys followed close by Chicken Little had reached the north room and were cautiously opening the window, inch by inch, lest the sound should be heard outside. Then they quietly clambered out. At first there seemed to be no trace of the intruders. But when Carol incautiously exclaimed in a stage whisper: ”Bet they've all vamoosed!” a distinct ”Hist!” was heard from below. Finally Sherm, who was flat on his stomach, holding on to the edge of the roof, solved the mystery. He held up his hand in warning to the others, and presently came crawling back and motioned them all inside.

”They're all close against the kitchen windows trying to find out what's going on. They like to caught us when Carol piped up that time. Gee, looked like there was a dozen, but some of 'em are little fellers. I wish we could make a rush at them, but I guess there's too many.”

”Shucks, I hate to give up,” growled Ernest.

”Well, we might as well go back and finish the candy!” said Carol after a pause. ”We can't do anything with such a crowd--a sweet time we'll have getting home tonight,” he added gloomily.

”Pshaw, they'll get tired and go home before that,” Ernest rea.s.sured him. ”Say I've got an idea they can hear about everything we say in the kitchen. Let's go down and pretend we're having an awful good time and----”

”Yes, and let's guy them!” interrupted Sherm.

”Sam's in my room at school and he can't stand being made fun of.”

The trio returned to the kitchen, and ably seconded by Chicken Little laughed and frolicked, jeering noisily at the crowd outside. The foes soon gave evidence that they could hear distinctly. They began to return the taunts and to rattle and pound on the doors and windows. They were getting cold and the penetratingly tempting smell of the taffy had evidently drifted through the cracks, for one shrill voice piped up:

”Say, give us some!” to be immediately hushed by his more warlike companions.

If the trio had been clever enough to act on this suggestion and treat, the feud might have come to a speedy end, but the lads were not at a tactful age. Instead Sherm hurled the most insulting defiance he could think of.

”Go get some yourselves, you red-headed Irish beggars!”

This taunt roused the wrath of the attacking party to a white heat, and an instant later the kitchen window came cras.h.i.+ng in and a giant snow ball burst into ma.s.ses of wet snow on the floor.

The boys made a dash for the door, but the bolt was hardly slid, when it, too, crashed, open, and Frank Morton stamped in, pus.h.i.+ng Pat Casey and Mike Dolan ahead of him each securely gripped by the collar, in his strong hands.

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