"The mean, sneaking coward!" he cried. In his hand he held a large snowball. It was hard packed, but did not equal the ice balls 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 snowball 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 mass 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 iceballs," 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.
