Part 32 (1/2)

Dutcher groaned over the risk he knew they were taking, but he felt certain that no word of his would change the plan, so he wisely held his peace after that.

But breakfast was on and eaten, and still there was no sign of returning Grammar School boys.

”Dave and his crowd must-'a' gone through the deep snow at some point where it was soft,” wailed Hen. ”That's just what they've done.”

”Oh--dry up!” Greg retorted.

”If they ain't back here in another hour you fellows will feel the same way I do about it,” Hen Dutcher predicted stubbornly.

d.i.c.k Prescott made no answer, though, truth to tell, he was beginning to worry inwardly. A mishap in the forest, on this bitterly freezing morning, would be no simple matter.

CHAPTER XVII

HEN TURNS HIS VOICE LOOSE

”I see some one coming!” called Greg, who, after breakfast, had taken up the post by the unshuttered window.

Cras.h.!.+ Hen Dutcher dropped the crockery plate he was drying, then plunged headlong into d.i.c.k's bunk, burrowing under the blankets.

”It's our crowd!” cried d.i.c.k joyously, as he leaped to Greg Holmes's side. ”And there are two men with 'em.”

”Oh, pshaw! Why didn't you say so before?” came in a half smothered voice as Dutcher thrust his head partly from under the blankets. Then he added, suddenly, in a quaking voice:

”Say, you fellows better hide--quick! If old Fitsey is in the cook shack there's bound to be some shooting.”

With that Dutcher hid his head once more. But d.i.c.k, Greg and Harry paid no heed to him. They were busy getting on coats, caps and mittens. A few moments later they had the door open, and stood out on the hard crust of snow, waiting to receive the approaching party.

Dave espied them, and waved one hand without calling.

”You'd better get back in here! You'll get hurt!” warned Hen Dutcher, standing well back from the doorway.

Like a flash d.i.c.k leaped for the doorway.

”Hen, you keep quiet in there. Don't set up a yell at the very time when a little stealth is needed.”

”But it's dangerous to fool with people like Fitsey!” choked Hen.

”Keep quiet! If you can't help, don't hinder. Don't be an utter pinhead, Hen.”

Now that they were in sight of the cabin, Dave and his companions, and the two men with them, put on extra speed. d.i.c.k stole off to meet the approaching ones.

”Fits hasn't gotten away, has he?” hailed Dave, in a hoa.r.s.e undertone.

”We haven't seen him go,” d.i.c.k replied. ”For all we know he's still in the shack. Officers?”

d.i.c.k indicated the two men.

”One of them is a constable,” nodded Dave; ”the other is a neighbor sworn in as a deputy.”