The boys were in for it. Nevertheless, they listened to the prolonged tirade with suppressed amusement. Its conclusion was an order to the quartette to go down on the walk again. "They won't touch a hair of your heads now," she boasted unwisely. Again came the stinging volleys on the sheeted figures. A few of the peas flew by chance, or otherwise, in the direction of the protectress, herself. "Come into the house this minute," she called to her brood. "I'll fix 'em." The door slammed angrily. Through a front window, the boys could see her at the telephone in the lighted hallway. They redoubled the bombardment of the house in defiance. Across the street a door creaked. Mrs. Alford's voice carried to where the excited little group stood. "Per-e-e-e, it's nearly seven. Supper is ready. Come in and get washed right away!" The "Tigers" gasped and dispersed quickly. Half-past six was the deadline for the evening meal with most of them, and parental scoldings were in order. "See you at eight," Silvey called as he turned north. John stopped short. Hang that party! "I w-won't be with the gang," he quavered. "What?" Bill could scarcely believe his ears. John explained haltingly. "That kid! I knew she'd make trouble." The murder was out; the worst was over with. But it would never do to let his chum think that he regretted the choice. "Oh, I don't know." John gathered courage and glibness as he went on. "Saw two ice cream freezers going in the back way this afternoon, and Jiminy, Silvey, her mother's some cook. Louise says [he hadn't laid eyes on that lady since Friday] she's just baked four chocolate layer cakes with nuts and candies in the frosting. And there's lots of other things. Now, don't you wish you were me?" Silvey shrugged his shoulders and admitted that the entertainment had its alluring side. "Chocolate cake," he repeated. "Just think, all you can eat." There was an envious silence. "Strawberry ice cream. Three helpings to a fellow; and I'll have more, 'cause I wouldn't let you throw cucumbers at Louise." His chum's face grew wistful. "S'long," said John exuberantly. He had not only converted the scoffer, but he now found that the gang's plans for the evening no longer held a charm for him. What a peach of a time he would have at the Martins'! Mrs. Fletcher greeted him with a suppressed smile as he came in. "Mrs. Riley telephoned," she began reprovingly. "Old sorehead!" he exclaimed. "Didn't hurt 'em any." The maternal smile broadened. There was little sympathy between that quarrelsome lady and the other mothers of the street, anyway. "But you shouldn't torment little children like that, son. It isn't manly." John murmured a few sheepish words under his breath, and asked tactfully if supper were ready. "Not quite. Why?" "Have you forgotten the party?"