TOMMY'S GANG FAILS

Evening Post, Volume CXXVI, Issue 80, 1 October 1938, Page 20

TOMMY'S GANG FAILS

(Written for Boys of the Ring by Cavell Nichol, City.)

YI^INTER was nearly over, but great quantities of snow still lay on the ** ground. It didn't seem to worry Tommy Smith, however. Whistling shrilly, he shuffled his way along an invisible track, his feet ploughing nonchalantly through the snow. Trees lined the track on either side, but the small boy paid no attention to these. If he thought they might have concealed other little boys, he gave no heed. He ambled ori—then suddenly disappeared! Yes, vanished, as if the earth had opened-and swallowed him. Tommy Smith was dazedly aware that lie was totally enveloped in some freezing substance. He opened his mouth and promptly swallowed nearly a pound of snow before he had the presence of mind to close it again. Clawing frantically at the snow, Thomas fought his way to his feet and poked his head through to daylight Five5 grinning faces staged at his woebegorie appearance. "Fats Davis!" croaked Tommy. "You did this, you cad!" "Ha, ha, ha!" roared the five small boys lining the hole. "How do you like it, Smith?" sneered a plump lad, who rejoiced in the name of Astorius Davis, but commonly known as "Fats." "Thought we'd give you a surprise," continued Tommy's foe. "so we covered this>,dip over with snow. We knew you'd be along soon." And his cronies howled with laughter and commenced rolling snowballs to throw at poor Thomas. The latter crawled forlornly out and, drenched to the skin, started.to walk homeward bound. He disdained to run, but a well-aimed snowball helped him on his way so that he was forced to. run, with the derisive laughs of "Fats" and Co. in his ears. That afternoon, which was Saturday, Tommy called an urgent meeting of his gang. Seated on upturned boxes as chairs, the members grew hot with indignation at the prank played on their leader. "We got to revenge pur gang!" hooted Tommy, and banged furiously on a large packing case for a table. "Whoooo!' he continued, rubbing fiercely at his hand which had come down on a nail thoughtlessly le£t in the case. He sucked the injured member a few moments before proceeding. "There's plenty of snow after that storm," said Whitey. "We cud make some snowballs, take 'em along and pelt the Davis crowd. I know where they meet and they're gener'lly playin' snakes an' ladders Saturday afternoons." "No," snapped Tommy. "We got to do more than that." But the rest of the gang seemed keen on making snowballs and waived all other suggestions forwarded by Tommy. Finally it was agreed to conduct a snowballing expedition.

"All right," grunted Tommy in conclusion, "we'll go over an* surprise 'em as soon as we get enough snowballs." But the Smith gang would not have been so sure of themselves had they seen a small boy creep away from a chink in the wall and make good speed towards the enemy lines—in other words, Davis's fort. For "Snoofey" Sneetz, Davis's prize spy, had heard every word uttered within the Smith fort. It was an hour later when Tommy and his pals set out towards the fort occupied by their hated enemies. Each boy was heavily laden with snowballs contained in sugar sacks. Each sack was half-full and most uncomfortably heavy. The fort came into view at last, and they pushed through the trees surrounding it. "We'll creep up to the door," whispered Tommy. "When I throw open the door rush in an* surprise 'em. Then we'll—yoop!" Something squashed heavily against his ear, and he found himself staring at the sky. Meanwhile, snowball after snowball came whistling through the air, each missile .finding a target in the unfortunate Tommy and Co. Those worthies thought for a moment that the sky had fallen in, but the sight of whooping Davisites bearing down upon them whipping snowballs from sacks slung at their sides told Tommy and Co. what had occurred. Snowballs crashed down on.them like rain,, and soon had every member of the Smith gang.,floored,-.0r,, rather, earthed! > Panting with rage, Tommy scrambled to his feet, clutching a ball of snow which he flung at the jeering face of "Fats," who was -es proud as if he had won a battle as important 'as Waterloo. Squash! "Fats" ceased to cackle as blinding, cutting, freezing ice crashed on his face, blotting out the world in general, like a blanket. That was small victory for Tommy and Co., however. Gasping and choking in a welter of snow, they, like Napoleon of old, retreated before the onslaught of the foe. Soon they were rushing madly back to the fort, desperately endeavouring to escape the crashing barrage that pursued them. It is said that there is no rest for the wicked. And so it was with Tommy and Co., There was no rest for them whilst Davis and his pals had snowballs to throw, and it seemed to Tommy they had thousands left, if not millions and billions! The fort was reached at long, long last. Four frozen images tumbled inside, slammed the door with a terrific slam, and collapsed on the floor, wondering why they ever struggled to exist. From that hut during the next two or three hours came moans and groans, gasps and grunts. They, at all events, were tired of snow, sick of it in fact, but it eased their feelings to groan, so they did!