s struggled for a while until
John sat heavily on his foe's stomach, and pinioned the resistant arms
with his knees. Then the fun began. "Going to be good?"

Silvey looked desperately up at the handful of snow held high above his
head.

[Illustration: _"Going to be good?"_]

"Look, here, Fletch--don't you wash my face, don't you--"

"Going to be good?" asked John again.

His answer was a wrench for freedom. Thud, came a soft mass down on
Bill's nose and open mouth. He spluttered and rolled over desperately,
trying to throw John from his vantage point. The front door creaked, and
an alien voice called,

"What's the matter, you boys? Ain't you ever going to get finished?"

They rose sheepishly to find the servant smiling down at them from the
doorway.

"Missis says, 'hurry up,'" she cautioned them.

Silvey picked up his shovel and began to make the snow fly
industriously. Presently the fit of ardor wore off, and he stared
thoughtfully at the long stretch of walk which still remained between
the front porch and the back yard.

"How much did I say we'd do this for?" he asked.

"Quarter," said John, as he leaned on his shovel handle.

"Wished I'd made it thirty-five cents!"

Foot by foot, they cleared a path well around by the side of the house.
The milkman, the butcher, and the gas inspector had each left heavy
footmarks which were difficult to remove and made progress slow. At the
rear steps, a huge drift met their gaze, and Silvey stretched his aching
arms.

"What'd we say we'd do this for?" he asked again.

"Quarter."

"Wished I'd said _half a dollar_. There's a walk on the other side,
too."

No skylarking now. Their muscles ached too much from the exercise to
waste their energy in other channels. When the cut through the drift had
been made, and the back porch and basement walk freed of the covering,
Bill leaned his shovel against a clothes-line post, and surveyed the
result of their labors malevolently.

"Next time we do this, John," he snapped emphatically, "we'll charge a
whole dollar!"

But the mischief had been done. By the time they had been paid the
well-earned quarter, not a house near them offered prospect of
employment. And at the far end of the street, the "Jeffersons" were
making a last reconnoissance before deserting the neighborhood for more
fruitful fields of labor.

"Now see what you did when you shoved me into the snow," said John
ruefully.

"Well, you didn't have to wash m