ON THE TRAIL BACKWARD
"You'd better listen to me, Fred Ripley," called Dick, 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."
"What I want to say," Dick went on, rather calmly now, since he felt
that he was nearly master of the situation, "is that, if you break the
door down, or start anything else that is mean, we shall have to tell
your father all about it. We were given charge of this property, and
we've got to account for it. You're a lawyer's son; perhaps you know
what kind of trouble your conduct here to-night will get you into."
"Telltale!" taunted Fred.
Dick made no answer, deeming silence the wiser course.
"Sneak!" added Ripley.
Dick held up his hand as a signal to his chums to preserve silence.
Outside the other boys heard no noise save that made by Tom Reade when
he began to feed the fire, for the interior of the cabin was growing a
trifle chilly.
"Now, don't say a word to them, no matter what those fellows yell at
us," Dick whispered, circulating among his chums. "Don't even let them
hear us talking among ourselves. If everything is still in here, and
they can't get any answer from us, that may set them to guessing. If we
get them to guessing they'll be uneasy next."
So silence reigned within the cabin. There was no response from Dick &
Co., even when the larger boys outside kicked and pounded on the door
and shouted abusive taunts.
Every now and then one of Fred's crowd would slip around by the shack
and warm himself before the still glowing embers.
"We might as well cut it, and get out of this," Fred whispered at last
to his companions, after he had summoned them by signs to join him
before the blaze that was left at the site of the shack. "Those
youngsters won't let us into their house, and we'll freeze to death
around here as soon as yonder bonfire is out. We'll get back to your
uncle's Hen. Bert and I have been paying him board money for the crowd,
and he'll be glad enough to see us back. But let's go without making any
noise, and then the youngsters in the cabin will wonder--just simply
wonder--whether we've left or are still around. The result will be that
they won't dare to show their noses outdoors."
So General Fred marched his forces away by stealth. Had he been able to
look into the cabin, though, before departing, he would have felt
chagrined.
For Messrs. Dick & Co. were far from feeling uncomfortable. They had
suddenly discovered, all over again, that they were hungry. The hour
being late, they had put together a light repast, and were now enjoying
it. Then, not having heard anything of the enemy for an hour, Dick
decided upon opening the door to take a peep outside. His five chums,
however, stood at his back, while Greg Holmes held the bar, ready to
drop it into place instantly at need.
As Dick looked out he saw all clear before the cabin. He stole down to
the corner of the log structure, gazing at what was left of the shack
blaze. There was but little of that.
Then Prescott ran around the cabin.
"Nobody in sight," he reported. "The rowdy crowd has gone home--or
probably up to Hen's uncle's house. We won't see 'em again to-night."
"Let's go to bed, then," proposed Tom. "If they come back they can't get
in without making a noise that will wake us."
"Bed will be a first rate idea," nodded Dick, "as soon as we have got in
some wood and water."
This took barely ten minutes. The same space of time was devoted to
building up the fire for the night. Then, well tired, despite all their
excitement, all the members of Dick & Co. were soon sound asleep.
It was eight in the morning when the first one of them awoke.
"Well, we got through the night without having any more of either Ripley
or Fits," remarked Tom, as he dressed.
"Which is worse?" inquired Dave.
"Mr. Fits, by all means," Dick replied. "We can come very close to
thrashing Fred Ripley and his crew. And they can be scared away, too.
But Mr. Fits is downright dangerous."
"If all outsiders, intruders and enemies will only keep away from here
we can have a splendid time after this," sighed Tom.
"We're going to have a good time, anyway," Dick declared stoutly. "So
far, those who have tried to annoy us have succeeded only in furnishing
some excitement for us. Although we've been snowbound most of the time
here we've had anything but a dull time."
"Is it safe for us all to leave camp at one time?" inquired Greg.
"If you're asking me," Dick replied, "I don't believe it is. We can't be
sure that Fits, or Fred Ripley's crowd, won't swoop down here at any
moment. It is just the doubt that will make us feel unwise in leaving
the camp without any one to guard it. As far as Ripley is concerned, I
don't believe he's going to show up here again. The burning of the cook
shack, accidental though it was, has probably been enough to frighten
Fred Ripley so that he and his crowd will soon start for Gridley, if
they haven't headed in that direction already."
"Then suppose you and I stay here this morning," proposed Dave Darrin,
"and let the other fellows get out for this morning?"
"All right," agreed Dick.
"And you'd better keep the shutters over all but one window," suggested
Tom. "You can close and fasten that one quickly, at need. And, when
you're inside the cabin, have the bar on the door and don't open, even
to us, unless you recognize our voices."
"Why, we'll feel as if we were living in a fort, at that rate," Dick
laughed.
"One has to, in the face of an enemy," Greg asserted. "But you can call
it a blockhouse, instead of a fort, Dick, and the logs will look more in
keeping."
Before four of the Grammar School boys departed on a forenoon tramp all
hands turned to and laid in a goodly supply of firewood and water.
In the afternoon Dick and Dave headed a party of young explorers,
leaving Tom and Greg on guard at the cabin.
The day after, morning and afternoon, the Grammar School boys fished
through the ice on the pond, catching enough pickerel and trout to last
famished boys for two meals.
During these two days neither Mr. Fits nor the Ripley crew made an
appearance. Still, the camp was not left unguarded. A few more days of
rare life and sport followed. Then there came a day when, an hour after
sun up, the crust proved too weak to support the Grammar School boys.
"We've a thaw coming," hinted Dave.
"Or else a storm," added Prescott.
"Whatever is coming will be all right," announced Tom, "if it isn't
another big blizzard. A second blizzard, and we'll be snowbound here for
the rest of the winter!"
The softness of the snow kept the Grammar School boys at the camp that
day. Their stock of books came in handy now. By four o'clock that
afternoon it began to rain. Soon it poured, and the downfall kept coming
all night long. It was still raining heavily when the new day came. That
warm rainstorm lasted until nearly evening of the second day. With every
hour of continued rain some of the snow vanished.
"We're going to lose the last bit of the good white stuff," predicted
Tom gloomily.
When the rain ceased at last the prophecy was verified. Throughout the
forest the recent "big snow" was visible only in small patches here and
there.
"The best part of our good time is gone," grumbled Dan.
"Have you fellows been watching the state of provisions lately, I
wonder?" asked Dick.
"What about 'em?" demanded Harry.
"Well, just look over the stock."
"We've enough for two days yet, haven't we?"
"I don't believe what we have will last us through to-morrow," Dick went
on. "Let's appoint ourselves a committee to take account of stock."
"We made a big mistake when we were figuring on what we'd need,"
grumbled Dan.
"No," replied Dick, with a shake of his head. "What we didn't allow for,
in the first place, was boarding a huge eater like Hen Dutcher for a
while. Nor did we plan to have Ripley's crowd here in our absence,
helping themselves and wasting almost as much as they used."
"Whew!" grunted Tom disconsolately. "We've soon got to be hitting the
home trail, haven't we?"
"Or else go to bed to-morrow night on a small allowance of food," nodded
Dick, "and prepared to do without food the day after that."
There was much discussion that night. Tom was for "sticking it out,"
doing the best possible on a diet of fish that might be caught in the
pond. But wiser counsel prevailed. Early next morning Dick and Dave
started out over the bare ground on their way to the nearest house that
had a telephone. It proved to be Constable Dock's house, though the
officer himself was away. Calling up Miller's grocery store, Mr.
Miller's son, Joe, was engaged to come out to camp at once with a wagon.
It was late in the afternoon, however, when Joe arrived. It took another
hour for the boys to get their outfit packed on to the wagon. Then they
seated themselves on top of the load and Joe clucked to the horses.
"So you boys ran across the fit thrower out in the woods, and he gave
you plenty of excitement?" queried Joe, after the start homeward had
been made.
"Yes," nodded Dick, "and we were afraid he'd show up again before we got
through in the woods."
"Why?" asked Joe, bringing the whip down lazily on the flanks of the
horses.
"Because," Dick answered, "we found his loot, and he knew we had found
it. We feared that he'd make another big effort to get back the stuff,
which was valuable."
"But the police have the stuff," Joe went on.
"How do you know that?"
"Why, Ripley's crowd knew it when they got back to Gridley, and the
newspapers got the fact from the Gridley police."
"If Mr. Fits read the Gridley papers," remarked Prescott, thoughtfully,
"then of course he knew he couldn't recover any of his plunder by paying
us a visit. That, I guess, was the only reason why he didn't pay the
cabin another visit."
"That, and the other fact, perhaps," Joe went on, "that the Gridley
papers hinted that the cabin was being shadowed by the police."
"But it wasn't."
"No matter; if your fit throwing gentleman thought he was going to take
any chances of running into police out in these woods, then he wasn't
going to slip his neck into a noose."
"I'm glad he kept away," muttered Tom Reade.
"Unless we could have had the pleasure of jumping on the rascal and
getting the glory of capturing him," flashed Dave Darrin.
"I feel a bit blue over leaving the good old cabin," complained Greg
Holmes.
"So would I," returned Dick, "if it weren't for the fact that Lawyer
Ripley told us we could use the place whenever we choose. That means
that we can go camping there again."
"Maybe Lawyer Ripley will take back what he said when he hears about the
cook shack being burned to the ground," suggested Harry solemnly.
"But we didn't burn it down, anyway," retorted Dick.
"Who did, then?" asked Joe curiously.
None of Dick & Co., however, offered an answer.
After glancing at the boys in turn, Joe decided to hold his peace on
that topic.
It was well after dark when the outfit arrived in Gridley. Joe drove to
Dick's first, with that youngster's belongings. The other boys jumped
from the "rig" and scurried homeward for supper.
"Young man," was Mr. Prescott's greeting of his son, "from all I hear,
you boys went in for a bigger list of adventure than you outlined to us
before starting away."
"It wasn't on account of any wishes of ours, Dad," laughed Dick. "We
fairly had the extra excitement thrust on us."
"I hope you've had a good time, my son, and supper is ready for you,"
remarked Mrs. Prescott practically.
"Run upstairs with your mother and have your meal," directed the elder
Prescott. "I'll watch the store while your mother is thrilling over the
doings of the week."
"Mother," was one of Dick's first questions upstairs, "did Dan's homing
pigeon get back with our message?"
"Oh, yes."
"Then all you parents were easy about our safety."
"Quite. But I can't tell you how worried I was when I heard of your
adventures with that terrible thief."
"He didn't bother us much, mother. We were small boys, but there were
too many of us."
"But suppose he had shot one of you?"
"He didn't have any firearms, mother, until one of the officers made the
mistake of throwing a pistol at him."
Then Dick had to go over all the adventures of the snowbound days.
"As soon as I clear up here," said Mrs. Prescott, "I'm going down into
the store and tell your father some of the exciting things you've been
telling me. And I know, Richard, that you're anxious to get out on the
street and see some of your schoolmates. So run along."
Dick had not been out five minutes before he encountered Dave Darrin.
"Let's go up Main Street and see if we can't run into Tom and some of
the other fellows," proposed Dave.
"Good enough," Dick nodded. But they went a good many blocks without
encountering any of their own crowd.
"Wait; I want to step into this doorway and tie my shoe," said Dave.
Dick took a few steps ahead. Just at the corner he encountered a man
slinking around into Main Street.
"You here?" gasped Dick, then instantly he went down under a blow on his
chest.
"Dave!" gasped Prescott, rather badly winded.
"What?" demanded Darrin, racing up.
"Mr. Fits knocked me down and bolted around that corner," flashed Dick
Prescott.