"Just you let me have a whack at 'em!"
The girls were aiming furiously, if blindly. And though Meg closed her
eyes tight every time she threw a snowball, Bobby reported that several
of her shots had hit a victim. Thanks to the good work of the fourth
grade pupils, the supply of ammunition held out well.
Suddenly Bobby, who was standing on a little snow mound that raised him
slightly above the wall, received a snowball squarely in the eye. He
cried out with the pain, though he tried to smother the sound with his
hand over his mouth.
"That was dipped in water and packed!" said Palmer angrily, picking up
the ball and examining it. "That's no fair. Mr. Carter said packed
snowballs weren't to be used. Let's see your eye, Bobby. Is it
swelling?"
"Don't say anything," begged Bobby, letting Palmer inspect his eye,
which was rapidly swelling. "Mr. Carter would stop the fight if he
heard about the ball."
CHAPTER VII
A BIRTHDAY PARTY
Palmer knew this to be true, for Mr. Carter had expressly said that at
the first sign of unfair play the battle would be called off. He made
few rules for his pupils, but those he did make were never to be
lightly broken.
"I'll bet that Tim Roon threw it!" stormed Meg. "You wait!"
Meg was very quick to think and to act, and the sight of her favorite
brother, one blue eye almost closed, roused her to strong measures.
"Come on, and rush 'em!" she cried, her little arms waving like
windmills.
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