nut variety," put in one of the
cadets dolefully. "They are always full of holes."

"Never mind the socks now!" cried Randy Rover. "Let's see who can put the
first snowball over the barn."

It was late in the afternoon of a day in January and a number of the
cadets of Colby Hall had been amusing themselves in the snow which
covered the ground to a depth of nearly a foot. They had started in to
snowballing each other, but had then grown more serious and had built
several snow forts and likewise two or three snowmen which later they had
taken great sport in knocking apart. Then some one had suggested that
they try their skill at seeing who could throw, the highest and farthest,
and this had led to the present contest.

"We'll mark off a line about a hundred feet from the main barn," Jack
Rover had announced. "And then we'll see who can throw highest over the
roof."

The four Rovers were accompanied by half a dozen of their chums and six
or eight others, and at the word from Jack the snowballs began to fly at
a lively rate, a few landing on the roof of the big barn and the majority
hitting the side.

"Say, look out that you don't break a window," warned Gif Garrison. "If
you do, you'll have an account to settle with Captain Dale."

"Here she goes!" yelled Dan Soppinger, and let fly with so much strength
that the snowball sailed up to the very ridgepole of the barn and
disappeared on the other side.

"Hurrah! Dan draws first blood!" shouted Jack.

"Huh! Dan didn't throw over the barn, he just slid over it," snickered
Randy.

Jack was hard at work making a small and perfectly round ball. Now,
taking careful aim, he let fly with all his might.

"There she goes fair and square," he announced with pardonable pride, as
the snowball cleared the top of the barn by several feet and disappeared
beyond.

The snowball had scarcely been thrown when two other balls thrown by Fred
and another cadet went sailing over the barn. Then those in the contest
seemed to acquire better skill, and soon nearly every one of them was
topping the barn with the missiles.

"Phew! some hot work, I'll say," panted Will Hendry, usually called Fatty
because he was the stoutest boy in the school.

"This exercise will do you good, Fatty," returned Fred. "You need to
reduce."

"If Fatty keeps on he'll be eating Colby Hall poor," announced Spouter
Powell.

"Huh! I don't eat any more than any of you," grumbled Fatty. "Fact is, I
hold myself d