One of the missiles struck Diggory on the shoulder, and the other struck Mugford fair and square on the side of the head, the fragments flying all over the floor.

There was a subdued yell of triumph, the door was slammed to with a bang, and the muffled sound of stockinged feet thudding up the neighbouring staircase showed that the enemy were in full retreat.
"It's those confounded Main-top men!" cried Jack Vance; "I will pay them out.

I wonder where the fellows got the snow from ?" "Oh, I expect they opened the window and took it off the ledge," answered Diggory.

"Look here--let's sweep it up into this piece of paper before it melts." This having been done, the three friends hastily threw off their clothes and scrambled into bed, forgetting all about the proposed race in their eagerness to form some plan for an immediate retaliation on the occupants of the "Main-top." "I wonder if they'll hear anything of the ghost again this term ?" said Mugford, "What ghost ?" asked Diggory.
"Oh, it's nothing really," answered Vance; "only somebody said once that the house is haunted, and Kennedy and Jacobs say the ghost must be in the big attic next their room.

They hear such queer noises sometimes that they both go under the bed-clothes." "Do they always do that ?" "Yes, so they say, whenever there is a row." "Well, then," said Diggory, "I'll tell you what we'll do: we'll go very quietly up into that attic, and groan and knock on the wall until you think they've both got their heads well under the clothes, and then we'll rush in and bag their pillows, or drag them out of bed, or something of that sort.