Baseball Joe on the School Nine Part 4

"That's right," agreed Peaches, "and we made it up not to throw that kind. Well, if we catch Hiram or Luke using 'em we'll make a protest, that's all."

"Say, are you fellows all ready?" asked Frank Brown at length, as he looked to see if he and his mates had a good supply of ammunition.

"Sure," answered Joe. "Yell when you want us to come at you."

"Any time now," replied Frank. "Get on the job, fellows!" he called to his force.

The snow battle began. Joe and his lads had boxes and baskets of s...o...b..a.l.l.s piled where they could easily get them. They took them with them, up to the very walls of the fort, certain boys being designated as ammunition carriers.

The fight was fast and furious. The air was thick with flying b.a.l.l.s; and the yells, shouts, cries, and laughter of the lads could be heard afar.

Up to the fort swarmed Joe and his mates, only to be driven back by a withering fire. Then they came once more to the attack, pouring in a destructive rain of white b.a.l.l.s on the defenders of the snow fort. But this resulted partly in disaster for the attacking foe, as several of their number were captured.

"At 'em again!" ordered Joe, after a slight repulse. "We can capture that place!"

Once more they swarmed to the attack, and with very good effect, delivering such a rattling volley of b.a.l.l.s, that the defenders were thrown into confusion, and could not send back an answering fire quickly enough.

"Swarm the walls! Swarm the walls!" yelled Joe.

He and his lads scrambled up, their pockets filled with b.a.l.l.s. Down upon the hapless foe they threw them, and in another moment the fort would have been theirs.

"Repel boarders! Repel boarders!" sang out Hiram. "Come on, fellows, give 'em an extra dose!"

Joe saw the bully, and Luke, his crony, rush to a corner of the fort and take something from a wooden box. The next instant several lads uttered cries of real pain, as they felt the missiles of almost solid ice hit them. Joe understood at once.

"The mean, sneaking coward!" he cried. In his hand he held a large s...o...b..ll. It was hard packed, but did not equal the ice b.a.l.l.s in any particular. Yet it was effective.

Joe saw the chance he wanted. Hiram had drawn back his hand to throw one of the missiles he and Luke had secretly made, when, with a suddenness that was startling, Joe threw his large s...o...b..ll full in the bully's face.

Hiram caught his breath. The ball he had intended throwing fell from his hand. He staggered back, his face a ma.s.s of snow. Then he recovered himself, cleared his eyes of the flakes and, with a yell of rage sprang forward.

"I saw you throw that, Joe Matson!" he cried. "You had no right to pitch it with all your might at such close range."

"I had as much right as you and Luke have to use iceb.a.l.l.s," retorted our hero.

"I--I'll fix you for that!" threatened Hiram, boiling over with wrath, as he scrambled up the inner walls of the fort and stood before Joe.

"I'll knock you into the middle of next week! I'll teach you how to behave. I'm going to lick you good," and he drew back his fist, and aimed a mighty blow at our hero.

CHAPTER IV

JOE LEARNS SOMETHING

Joe Matson had been in fights before. Some had been forced upon him, and he accepted the challenges for sufficient reasons, and had given a good account of himself in the battles. Other fistic encounters had been of his own seeking and for excellent reasons he had generally come out ahead.

The prospective fight with the bully was very sudden. Joe had seen what he considered a mean trick on Hiram's part and had thrown on the impulse of the moment. He rather regretted his hasty action, but it was too late for regrets now, and he was willing to accept the outcome.

"I'm going to make you wish you'd never come to Excelsior Hall!" cried Hiram, and with that he expected the blow which he had aimed at Joe to land on the countenance of our hero.

But, like the celebrated flea of history, who, as the Dutchman said, "ven you put your finger on him, dot flea he aind't dere!" so it was with Joe. He cleverly ducked, and then waited for what would happen next.

Something did happen with a vengeance. Hiram had rushed up the slippery, sloping, inner wall of the fort to get at Joe, and pummel him for sending the s...o...b..ll smashing into his face, but when Joe turned aside, and Hiram's fist went through the air like a batter fanning over a swift ball, the bully was unable to recover himself.

He overbalanced, clawed vainly at the atmosphere, made a grab for Joe, who took good care to keep well out of reach, and then Hiram Sh.e.l.l went slipping and sliding down the outside wall of the snow fort, turning over several times ere he landed at the bottom, amid a pile of the white flakes.

[Ill.u.s.tration: HIRAM Sh.e.l.l WENT SLIPPING AND SLIDING DOWN THE OUTSIDE WALL OF THE SNOW FORT.]

In his descent he struck several lads who were swarming up to the attack, and these Hiram bowled over like tenpins, so that when he came to rest he was in the centre of a pile of heaving bodies, and of threshing and swaying arms and legs, like a football player downed after a long run.

"Get off me, you fellows!" yelled Hiram, when he could get his breath.

"I'll punch some of you good and hard for this!"

"And you'll get punched yourself if you don't take your feet out of my face!" retorted Peaches, who was one of the few pupils not afraid of the bully.

"Where's that Joe Matson? I've got a score to settle with him," went on Hiram, as he struggled to his feet, and disentangled himself from the ma.s.s of snow-warriors.

"You'll have one to settle with me if you knock me down again!" cried Teeter Nelson, as he tried to shake some snow out from inside his collar. It was melting and running down his back in little cold streams.

"What do you mean by playing that way?" demanded Teeter, who had not seen the impending fight between Joe and Hiram. "Why don't you stay inside your own fort, and not make a human battering ram of yourself?"

"You mind your own business!" snapped Hiram with an ugly look. "I slipped and fell, or else Joe Matson pushed me. Wait until I get hold of him."

With a look of anger on his face, Hiram turned and went swarming up the outer wall of the fort. At the top stood Joe, waiting, and the lad's face showed no signs of fear, though he was a trifle pale. Though Hiram was larger, and evidently stronger than Joe, our hero was not afraid.

He was debating in his mind whether it would not be better to rush to the ground below, where he would have a better chance if it came to an out-and-out-fight. Yet Joe had a certain advantage on top of the snow wall, for he could easily push Hiram down. Yet this was not his idea of a contest of that kind.

"I'll fix you, Matson!" muttered the bully. "I'll teach you to push me down! You might have broken my arm or leg," he added in an injured tone.

"I didn't push you!" retorted our hero. "You tried to hit me and missed.

Then you fell."

"That's right!" chimed in Peaches, amid a silence, for the general s...o...b..ll fight had ceased in antic.i.p.ation of another kind of an encounter.

Hiram balanced himself half way up the white wall.

"What did you smash me in the face with a s...o...b..ll for?" he demanded.

"We made it up that no one was to aim at another fellow's face at close range, and you know it."

"Of course I know it," answered Joe. "But that rule applied to hard b.a.l.l.s, and I didn't use one. I threw a soft ball at you, and you know why I did it, too. I'll let Luke Fod.i.c.k have one, too, if he does it again."

"Does what again?" sneered the bully's crony.

"Use icy b.a.l.l.s. I saw you and Hiram take some frozen ones from that box," and Joe pointed to the secret supply of ammunition. "Some of our fellows were hit and that's why I threw in your face, Hiram. Now, if you want to fight I'm ready for you," and Joe stood well balanced on top of the wall, awaiting the approach of his enemy.

Somehow the fighting spirit was oozing out of Hiram. He felt sure that he could whip Joe in a battle on level ground, but when his opponent stood above him, and when it was evident that Joe could deliver a blow before Hiram could, with the probability that it would send the attacker sliding down the wall again, the bully began to see that discretion was the better part of valor.

"Do you want to fight?" demanded Hiram, in that tone which sometimes means that the questioner would be glad to get a negative answer.