Part 42 (1/2)

”Then Hen's yarns are true?” asked Toby.

”They must be,” d.i.c.k responded. ”Who ever knew Hen to tell an untruth?”

”Say, stop your fooling, won't you?” begged Toby. ”What did Hen actually do out in the forest.”

”Why, he ate at least his share,” a.s.serted Tom.

”And got his share of sleep,” Darrin added.

”He also did his full share of housework,” Hazelton supplied, with a grin.

”We're glad he had such a good time,” d.i.c.k went on politely.

”But did he really do any of the hero stunts that he's telling about?”

Toby persisted.

”Not knowing what he's telling about, I really can't say,” Prescott answered.

”What is Hen claiming to have done, anyway?” Darrin inquired.

”Oh, Hen says--but come along and hear him for yourselves,” Toby finished. ”Hen is just a little way down the street, holding forth to a lot of fellows.”

”Come along, then,” nodded Tom. ”Perhaps we can slip in behind Hen without his seeing us, and then we'll know all that he did while we were s...o...b..und.”

Toby piloted them. A block and a half down Main Street a group of some twenty Grammar School boys stood, gathered closely around a central object. When d.i.c.k and his chums slipped up to the outer edge of the crowd they discovered that central object to be Hen Dutcher, whose back was turned to them.

Though Hen didn't know who was now near him, several of the other boys did, and they pa.s.sed the wink.

”Hen, tell us again just how it was that you cowed Mr. Fits when he first showed up at the cabin,” urged one of the juvenile bystanders.

”Huh! There wasn't much to cow,” retorted Hen airily. ”d.i.c.k Prescott and his chums were pretty well scared, I can tell you. But there was an air rifle standing in the corner, and I knew I could get it if I needed it.

So, when Fits ordered d.i.c.k Prescott to get him some supper, and d.i.c.k was just going to do it, I stepped up, as cool as anything, and I said: 'No, sir; d.i.c.k Prescott won't get you any supper in this camp. You'll get out of here, mister,' says I, 'and you'll be quick about it, too.' Well, when Fits looked into my eyes and saw that he couldn't scare me any, he began to whine, and says: 'All right, sir; I won't insist about any supper, but I must sleep here to-night. I'd freeze to death out in the big snowstorm.' 'You won't sleep here, any more than you'll eat here,'

says I to Fits. 'But you can sleep out in the cook shack behind this cabin, if you want to.' Fits, he tried to beg off, but when he found he couldn't, he just marched out of the cabin like a man and went to the cook shack.”

”Was Fits the one who set fire to the cook shack?” asked another boy in the crowd.

”I--er--I'm not going to tell you anything about that,” retorted Hen, trying to conceal his embarra.s.sment under an air of mystery.

”But say, Hen,” put in another boy, across the crowd, after winking at d.i.c.k, ”I really don't see how you could help being scared when you heard those ghost noises the first time.”

”Huh! Me? Scared?” responded Dutcher indignantly. ”No, sir! Being scared isn't in my line. But the other fellows were tremendously scared. I told 'em, again and again, that the noises were wholly human, and that we hadn't any call to be afraid of any man who used his voice, instead of his hands, against us.”

”Was d.i.c.k Prescott much scared?” asked one of the auditors, with a quick side glance at d.i.c.k.

”Was he?” repeated Hen. ”Huh! But, after all, Tom Reade was the biggest boo----”

Here Reade could control himself no longer. His deep chuckle broke on the night air, causing Hen Dutcher to turn with a start.

”Go on, Hen!” Tom encouraged him. ”Go on and tell all about it. I'll admit that I was scared. So were all the rest of our crowd. I guess, Hen, you really were the only brave one in the cabin when the blood curdling noises broke loose on us and spoiled our night's sleep.”