“Oh, Bert, wouldn’t it be terrible to have such a thing happen!” answered his twin sister. “How would we ever get out?”
“Ring the alarm and have the street-cleaning men dig us out,” he said merrily. “Do you know, Nan, that I just love the snow. It makes me feel like singing and whistling.” And he broke into a merry whistle.
“I love it because it looks so white and pure, Bert.”
They were speedily joined by a number of other boys and girls, all bound for school. Some of the girls were having fun washing each other’s faces and it was not long before Nan had her face washed too. The cold snow on her cheek and ear did not feel very nice, but she took the fun in good part and went to washing like the rest.
The boys were already snowballing each other, some on one side of the street and some on the other. The snowballs were flying in all directions and Bert was hit on the back and on the shoulder.
“I’ll pay you back!” he cried, to Charley Mason, who had hit him in the back, and he let fly a snowball which landed directly on Charley’s neck. Some of the snow went down Charley’s back and made him shiver from the cold.
“I wouldn’t stand that, Charley,” said Danny Rugg, who was close at hand. “I’d pitch into him if I were you.”
“You pitch into him,” grumbled Charley. “You can throw awfully straight.”
Danny prided himself on his throwing, which, however, was no better than the throwing of the other lads, and he quickly made two hard snowballs. With these in hand he ran out into the street and waited until Bert’s hands were empty. Then he came up still closer and threw one of the snowballs with all his might. It struck Bert in the back of the head and sent him staggering.
“Hi! how do you like that?” roared Danny, in high glee. “Have another?” And as Bert stood up and looked around he let drive again, this time hitting Bert directly in the ear. The snowball was so hard it made Bert cry out in pain.
“For shame, Danny Rugg, to hit Bert so hard as that!” cried Nan.
“Oh, you keep still, Nan Bobbsey!” retorted Danny. “This is our sport, not yours.”
“But you shouldn’t have come so close before you threw the snowball.”
“I know what I’m doing,” growled the big boy, running off.
The whack in the ear made that member ache, and Bert did not feel near so full of fun when he entered the schoolyard. Several of his friends came up to him in sympathy.
“Did he hurt you very much, Bert?” asked one.
“He hurt me enough. It wasn’t fair to come so close, or to make the snowballs so hard.”
“Let us duck Danny in the snow,” suggested one of the boys.
This was considered a good plan, but nobody wanted to start in, for, as I have said before, Danny was a good deal of a bully, and could get very rough at times.
While the boys were talking the matter over, the school bell rang and all had to go to their classrooms. In a little while Bert’s ear stopped aching, but he did not forget how Danny Rugg had treated him.
“I’ll pay him back when we go home to dinner,” Bert told himself, and laid his plans accordingly.
As soon as Bert got out of school he hurried into a corner of the yard and made three good, hard snowballs. These he concealed under his overcoat and then waited for Danny to appear.
The big boy must have known that Bert would try to square matters with him, for as soon as he came out he ran in the direction of one of the main streets of Lakeport, just the opposite direction to that which he usually pursued.
“You shan’t get away from me!” cried Bert, and ran after him. Soon he threw one snowball and this landed on Danny’s back. Then he threw another and knocked off the bully’s cap.
“Hi! stop that!” roared Danny, and stooped to pick up the cap. Whiz! came the third snowball and hit Danny on the cheek. He let out a cry of pain.
“I’ll fix you for that, Bert Bobbsey!” he said, stooping down in the street. “How do you like that?”
He had picked up a large chunk of ice lying in the gutter, and now he threw it at Bert’s head with all force. Bert dodged, and the ice went sailing past him and hit the show window of a small shoe store, shattering a pane of glass into a hundred pieces.
CHAPTER IV
The Broken Window
Neither Danny nor Bert had expected such an ending to the snowball fight and for the moment neither knew what to do. Then, as the owner of the shoe store came running out, both set off on a run.
“Stop! stop!” roared the shoe dealer, coming after them. “Stop, I say!”
But the more he cried stop the harder they ran. Both soon reached the corner, and while Danny went up the side street, Bert went down, so the boys soon became widely separated.
Reaching the corner, the owner of the store did not know which boy to go after, but made up his mind to follow Bert, who could not run as fast as Danny. So after Bert he came, with such long steps that he was soon close to the lad.
Bert was greatly scared, for he was afraid that if he was caught he might be arrested. Seeing an alleyway close at hand, he ran into this. At the back was a fence, and with all speed he climbed up and let himself down on the other side. Then he ran around a corner of a barn, through another alleyway, and into a street leading home.
The shoe dealer might have followed, but he suddenly remembered that he had left the store unprotected and that somebody might come in and run off with his stock and his money. So he went back in a hurry; and the chase came to an end.
When Bert got home he was all out of breath, and his legs trembled so he could scarcely stand. Nan had just arrived and the family were preparing to sit down to lunch.
“Why, Bert, why do you run so hard?” protested his mother. “You must not do it. If you breathe in so much cold air, you may take cold.”
“Oh, I—I’m all right,” he panted, and started to drop into his seat, but Mrs. Bobbsey made him go up to the bathroom and wash up and comb his hair.
Poor Bert was in a fever of anxiety all through the meal. Every instant he expected to hear the front door bell ring, and find there a policeman to take him to the station house. He could scarcely eat a mouthful.
“What’s the matter? Do you feel sick?” asked the father.
“No, I’m not sick,” he answered.
“You play altogether too hard. Take it easy. The snow will last a long time,” went on Mr. Bobbsey.
After lunch Bert did not dare to go back to school. But he could think of no excuse for staying home and at last set off in company with Nan. He looked around for Danny, but the big lad did not show himself.
“What’s the matter with you, Bert?” questioned his twin sister, as they trudged along.
“Nothing is the matter, Nan.”
“But there is. You act so strange.”
“I—I don’t feel very good.”
“Then you did run too hard, after all.”
“It wasn’t that, Nan.” Bert looked around him. “Do you see anything of Danny Rugg?”
“No.” Nan stopped short. “Bert Bobbsey, did you have a fight with him?”
“No—that is, not a real fight. I chased him with some snowballs and he threw a big chunk of ice at me.”
“Did he hit you?”
“No, he—he—oh, Nan, perhaps I had better tell you. But you must promise not to tell