"Let him sleep over it," said Charley, "that's what I do when pop's mad with me. Sleep out all night, and let him go to business before you show up." "Where can I stay?" "In our house. You can go up in the carpenter's shop and sleep in one of the coffins. I'd give you half my bed, but father's so funny-tempered he might lick us both, if he found that I'd kept you out." "That's so; and for want of a better roost, I'll do as you say." "Come at once, for I hear pop upstairs, going on at mamma as he always does when he's in a bad temper." Charley went into the yard, followed by his friend Tommy, on whom he thought he was conferring a great favor in allowing him to sleep in a coffin. The snow was lying about in heaps, and the idea that it would be great fun to snowball somebody at once struck Charley. "Say!" he exclaimed, "let's go down street and snowball Darky John." "All right," replied Tommy. "You fire at him, and I'll make a grab at his candy and divvy with you afterward." "Just's you say." Darky John was a good-tempered colored man who kept a candy store. The boys were always playing him some trick or another, and, indeed, they made his life a misery and a burden to him. As usual, Soft Tommy did not see the drift of his friend's proposal. He ran the risk of getting all the blows, and Charley all the candy. A few minutes' walk brought them to Darky John's. He was standing behind his counter, and was suddenly roused from the contemplation of a batch of red and blue-colored sugar pigs by the forcible contact of a snowball with his nose. "Ki!" he said, "dat's too rough for dis chile to stand. Who fire dat ball?" "Give him a couple more, and make him come out after you," whispered Charley. Tommy threw two more balls, one of which raised a commotion among the bottles on a shelf, the other broke on John's ear, and its flaky particles streamed down his neck. "Fore de lord, dat's too much. What I gwine to do now? If I cotch dat boy, I'll have to make him feel mighty sick!" exclaimed Darky John. Catching sight of Tommy he ran out of the shop and chased him up the street. Charley, meanwhile, entered the store and filled his pockets with candy. CHAPTER III. FUN ENDS IN TRAGEDY. Fat and lazy, Nigger John did not succeed in overtaking Tommy, and at length gave up the chase, vowing vengeance upon him when he got him in his power. The boys met at the corner of the street and divided the candy. "Now, what's the next move?" said Charley. "Do you want to creep into your deal box?" "I don't care," replied Tommy, with a shiver. "You needn't be afraid. The old man's got no stiff up in the shop just now." "It's horrid, though, to go among coffins, and your father does keep the dead bodies there sometimes." "Of course he does. I've seen half a dozen at a time waiting to be boxed up, but they can't hurt you. They're harmless enough; it's nothing when you're used to it."