As long as Hooker kept guard of the lower step, and Duffield's legs swayed about on the other, they were unable to do more than quietly push back the coats and put their heads out.

But both these amateur conductors were too much occupied in hailing passers-by and protecting their caps from the assaults of their own friends above to bestow much attention to the inside of a coat-strewn, stuffy vehicle; and in time our heroes found they might venture to whisper across the floor and attempt in a quiet way to make themselves more comfortable; "Beastly dusty," said Heathcote; "it gets in my mouth." "Wouldn't mind that," said Dick, "if I didn't get pins-and-needles in my arms.

I've a good mind to turn over." Here they were sent back like rabbits to their holes by the scare of a free fight taking place on the lower step between Hooker and a town youth, whom he had aggrieved by discharging a broadside of peas on a tender portion of his visage.
The fight was a sharp one, for the burly town youth was a "tartar," and had more than one grudge to settle with the Templeton boys.

He managed to get a footing on the step, and hooking one elbow securely over the door, worked his other arm with great effect on the unfortunate Hooker.
The whole fray was so suddenly got up that those on the roof knew nothing about it, and Duffield was so occupied with kicking at the intruder with his one spare leg that he quite forgot to raise a war cry.
The town boy proved equal to his two antagonists.

Duffield was early rendered _hors de combat_ by his spare foot being captured and tucked under the arm by which the enemy hung on to the door.