Part 38 (2/2)
”Not unless I have to.”
”Don't you dare go to spreading this yarn around Gridley!”
”I won't promise,” d.i.c.k made answer. ”I don't want to carry tales if I can help it, but we're bound to report to your father that the cook shack was burned down while we were here.”
”You can tell my father that it was your own carelessness, and let it go at that,” suggested Ripley.
”Humph! I like the cool nerve of your idea,” d.i.c.k jeered.
”That's what you'll tell my father, if you know what's good for you,”
Fred went on. ”That's all I've got to say, but you'll be sorry if you don't take my advice.”
Though the temperature was some degrees below zero in the forest that evening, none of the boys near the log cabin felt at all cold. The shack, whose roof soon fell in, still burned briskly enough to keep all hands warm.
”Watch your chance to dart into the cabin when you see me start. Move fast when the time comes. Tell Tom and Harry when you get a chance, but don't let the Ripley crowd suspect.”
d.i.c.k then found chance to pa.s.s the message to Greg and Dan.
Five minutes later d.i.c.k sauntered back to the corner of the cabin at the front side. Dave approached from another direction. Tom and the others caught the meaning of the move. Then, all of a sudden, there was a scampering of feet.
”Look out!” yelled telltale Hen. ”That crowd is up to something!”
”I know what they're up to!” shouted Fred. ”Follow me!”
The older boys charged the cabin door, but they reached it just as Greg was dropping the bar into place.
”Get in through the windows--quick!” shouted Ripley. He himself made a dash for one of the windows. Click! went a shutter before his face, and the locking-pin was dropped in. In a trice all the shutters were in place.
d.i.c.k & Co. were in their castle!
”You fellows open that door!” stormed Fred Ripley.
”Come inside and make us!” mocked d.i.c.k.
”Open that door,” summoned Fred, ”or we'll get a log and use it for a battering ram. We can get the door down that way!”
d.i.c.k felt a throb of dismay. It would be possible to get the door down by the aid of a battering ram, if the boys outside could find a sufficiently large log and had the strength to use it.
CHAPTER XXI
ON THE TRAIL BACKWARD
”You'd better listen to me, Fred Ripley,” called d.i.c.k, through the barred door.
”Yah! You better do the listening!” snarled Ripley. ”Open that door, or trouble is going to start inside of sixty seconds.”
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