CHAPTER II
THE SNOW BATTLE
DROPPING his sled rope, Freddie scampered out of the path of the speeding toboggan.
At the last possible moment, however, Danny and his friends leaned to the right and sent the toboggan careening past Freddie, showering him with a fine spray of snow.
Nan’s brown eyes were snapping. “Danny may only have been fooling, but he could easily have misjudged the turn.”
Her twin nodded grimly. This was not the first time that Danny Rugg, a schoolmate and bully, had tried to pull a mean trick on the Bobbseys. Aloud Bert said, “You were lucky, Freddie. Just the same, I’m going to have it out with Danny.”
“Do it later,” Nan urged. “Right now let’s go coasting. Race you all down the hill!”
For the next half-hour the four children had a wonderful time. Then, while Flossie and Freddie took a little rest and Nan joined some of her girl chums coasting down the hill, Bert sought out Danny.
The bully had just climbed a little way up the slope when Bert walked over to him and stopped.
“Danny, you’d better be more careful with your steering and not scare other children the way you scared Freddie,” he said sternly.
“Is that so?” jeered the bully. “Who do you think you are—a policeman?”
“No, I don’t,” Bert said firmly, doubling his fists. “But we’re going to need one around here if you don’t keep out of other people’s way.”
Danny started to laugh, but then, catching sight of the threatening look on Bert’s face, backed away. “Okay, okay, can’t you take a joke?”
Just then Charlie Mason walked up. “Hey, Bert, how about spending Mr. Carford’s money now?”
Bert agreed, and the two boys collected a group of their friends. With whoops of joy, the children started off toward the center of town. Their destination was Jenkins’ soda shop. Freddie arrived first and scrambled up on one of the high stools at the counter.
“About a hundred hot chocolates, please!” he said to the teen-aged clerk facing him.
“A hundred—” the startled youth began, but just then the rest of the children arrived.
Bert made an accurate count, and the clerk was relieved to learn that only twenty-four cups were required. Even so, he had his hands full for several minutes.
The steaming cups of hot chocolate, topped with whipped cream, were delicious. When the last drop had disappeared, all the children headed for home.
The next day was Sunday. After church and dinner, Bert and three of his chums decided to build a snow fort in a vacant lot near his father’s lumberyard. The winter sunshine had started to melt the snow around town, but out by the lake it was still plentiful.
Just as they had completed the structure, Danny Rugg and several friends strolled up and ordered them out of it.
“I’m taking over here now,” he bragged.
Bert refused to be bullied. “We built this fort and we’re staying here,” he said firmly.
That was all the excuse Danny needed to start a fight. “Okay, gang!” he cried. “Let’s drive ’em out!”
The snow battle was on! Danny’s friends took cover behind nearby trees and began peppering the fort with snowballs.
Bert motioned his chums to duck below the walls, then whispered instructions. The boys fell to work and soon had a stockpile of snowballs.
Since they did not start fighting at once, Danny became over-confident. He stepped from behind the tree and beckoned to his friends.
“Come on, let’s capture the fort from those sissies!” he called out.
At this Bert and his pals grinned at one another. They waited until the bully’s gang drew nearer, then at the last minute, Bert yelled:
“Fire!”
Following Bert’s command, a hail of snowballs descended on the startled attackers. They staggered back, throwing up their arms in vain attempts to ward off the missiles.
Danny yelled a frantic order, and his pals retreated, then huddled together just out of firing range. There was silence.
“Look out for Danny, fellows,” Bert warned his chums as he packed a snowball. “He’s up to some trick!”
Several tense moments passed with the fort defenders stockpiling snowballs for the attack they knew would come. More snow was packed against the thick, four-foot-high walls. At last Bert’s group was well prepared.
Suddenly Danny left his huddled group of buddies and waved a white handkerchief tied to a branch. He walked toward the fort slowly with his gang spread out in a semicircle behind him.
“They’re surrendering!” Charlie Mason exclaimed, pounding Bert on the shoulder happily. “We’ve won!”
Charlie leaped to his feet. In that instant, a volley of snowballs filled the air. Splat! One struck Charlie squarely in the chest with such force that he staggered back and fell flat.
“Down! Everybody down!” Bert yelled. He crawled over to his stricken friend. “Are you okay, Charlie?”
“I—I guess so,” was the gasping reply. “Just knocked the wind out of me for a second.”
“What a sly trick!” one of the other defenders exclaimed in disgust. “While Danny’s waving a flag of truce, his buddies attack.”
Bert examined the hard ball of snow which had hit Charlie. “Fellows, look!” he cried in amazement. “There’s a stone in the center of this!”
“No wonder it hurt!” Charlie remarked, rubbing the sore spot.
Bert’s fist pounded the snow. “That does it!” he yelled. “Let’s teach those guys a lesson!”
Quickly the four boys stuffed snowballs inside their jackets and into pockets. With Bert in the lead they raced out of the fort and toward the trees where Danny had retreated with his gang after the sneak attack.
The next few minutes passed in a flash. Snowballs pelted Danny and his pals from everywhere, and the trees they tried to hide behind were no protection from the furious barrage.
At last, spattered with snow from head to foot, the boys in Danny’s group fell back, then ran off in confusion.
Bert’s attack had been a complete success!
Danny turned, just outside of firing range, and shook a threatening fist at him. “I’ll get you, Bert Bobbsey!” he threatened. “You’ll be sorry for this!”
“You’re a poor sport, Danny,” Charlie derided the bully. “We beat you fairly—and without using stones either!” he added.
Red-faced and angrier than ever, the mean boy again shook his fist, then turned and raced off.
“Hey!” Bert exclaimed. “It’s after five o’clock, fellows. Guess we’d better head for home.”
The boys called good night to one another and started off toward their own homes. The skies had grown dark and a few soft white flakes had begun to fall.
Bert walked rapidly. Removing his gloves, he blew on his icy fingers. “It’s grown a lot colder,” he thought. “And these wet gloves don’t help a bit. Boy, will I be glad to get home!”
Bert stepped up his pace and was just crossing Main Street when a car pulled up beside him.
“Hop in, son,” a man’s voice called. “It’s too cold to walk far on a night like this!”
Bert peered into the car. The instrument panel lights revealed the white hair and lined face of Mr. Carford. “Why, thanks,” Bert replied. “I would appreciate a lift.”
He started to step into the car when suddenly his foot slipped on the icy curb. With a startled cry, the boy plunged face down onto the car seat.
“Whoa there, young fellow,” said Mr. Carford. “Not hurt, are you?”
“No,” Bert answered as he righted himself. Then he patted the seat and felt around on the floorboards of the car.
“Lose something?” Mr. Carford asked.
“I thought I heard something fall out of my pocket,” said Bert. “Guess not, though. I have my wallet, and there isn’t anything on the floor or seat.”
They started off toward the Bobbsey home. Mr. Carford spoke about his horse Daisy and told Bert how fond he was of her. “It isn’t often she runs away as she did yesterday,” he commented.
Bert wanted to ask his new friend about the mystery at Snow Lodge, but remembering his mother’s advice, he said nothing. Soon they drove up in front of the Bobbsey house where the boy thanked the elderly man, then jumped out.
Freddie and Flossie met him at the front door. The youngsters were dressed in snowsuits, hats, scarves, and mittens.
“Going out coasting in the dark?” Bert asked, giving Freddie a playful poke.
“No, we’re trying to keep warm in here!” Freddie exclaimed. “It’s freezing. Come in and see for yourself!”
When they went into the living room Mrs. Bobbsey explained that the furnace was not working. “The repairmen are in the basement now trying to fix it,” she added.
Just as Bert finished telling his mother and Nan and the small twins about the snow fort fight, one of the workmen came up the basement steps. Stripping off his work gloves, he said:
“I’m afraid I have bad news for you, Mrs. Bobbsey. The furnace is in need of a major part In fact, I’d strongly advise that you get a new furnace.”
The children’s mother looked worried. “But wouldn’t a job like that take several days?”
“Yes, and with Christmas coming up the end of the week, the job would take longer.”
“What would we do for heat in the meantime?” Mrs. Bobbsey asked in great concern.
“If I were you,” the repairman said, “I’d make arrangements to stay some place else for about a week. We’ve fixed the old furnace temporarily. It’ll last a few days. You can let us know what time would be convenient for us to come back.”
Mrs. Bobbsey explained that she would have to consult her husband and let the repairman’s office know later.
In a short time the house was fairly warm again. The children took off their extra coats and settled down to an excited discussion of where they would stay while the furnace was being repaired.
“We might go to Africa,” Freddie proposed. “It would be warm there, and we could see all the wild animals!”
“That’s a little far,” Nan teased. “But,” she added, “we could go to Florida, couldn’t we, Mother?”
“That would be great,” Bert agreed. “I’d like some swimming.”
Mrs. Bobbsey laughed. “I’m afraid we can’t go either place this time. However, I had a telegram this afternoon from your father. He’ll be home Tuesday. Then we can decide what to do. Perhaps we should go to the Lakeport Hotel as soon as school closes for Christmas vacation.”
“Oh!” the twins chorused. “We don’t want to spend Christmas there!”
