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CHAPTER XVIII
YOUNG MR. COME-BACK & CO.
"Say, you fellows----" began Hen, stepping out and joining d.i.c.k & Co.
All six turned to gaze at Dutcher. Then they looked at each other, the same thought in six minds. It was d.i.c.k who spoke:
"Hen, we came near overlooking the fact that this is your chance to get back to your friends. Get on your coat, your cap and mittens, and----"
"Whatcher talking about?" demanded Dutcher, looking almost startled.
"Hey! Mr. Dock!" bellowed Dave, using his hands as a megaphone.
The rather distant constable turned to look back.
"Please wait! There's a boy to go with you," Dave called.
"A-a-a-ll right," the answer came back.
"Hurry, Hen," d.i.c.k advised.
"But--but I don't want to go," protested Hen.
"You'd better," d.i.c.k advised him. "We housed you while it was necessary, but now there's a chance to get back to your uncle's, so you may as well go."
"I don't want----"
"Never mind about that," d.i.c.k continued firmly. "You'll be better off at your uncle's, and Constable Dock is headed that way."
"But my uncle doesn't want me," whined Hen.
"Then why should you think we can endure you, Hen, if your uncle can't?"
demanded Tom Reade, with a short laugh.
"Don't keep the constable waiting, Hen," d.i.c.k pressed him. "Get your motion started."
"Oh, well, if you fellows want to be mean, I suppose I'll have to go,"
faltered Hen. "But I was enjoying myself here."
"You'll enjoy yourself better still with your aunt," d.i.c.k urged with a smile. "Besides, you'll have your aunt's good cooking and a real bed to sleep in. If the country highways aren't broken out yet, they will be in a day or two, and then you can get back to Gridley."
"All right, if you fellows bounce me out of camp," sighed Hen ruefully, as he began to pull on his overcoat. "But I think you're about the meanest----"
"Save the rest of it, Anvil, if you please, until we're all at home in Gridley," Dave begged him.
"Say, you stop calling me Anvil," snarled Dutcher. "I don't like that name."
"Why not?" pursued Dave. "It fits you."
"Tell that boy to hurry up, if he's going with us," bawled Mr. Dock from a distance.
"Brace, Hen," Tom advised. "There, now you're ready. Good-bye, and come again when you're grown up."
"Those fellows don't know much about good manners," thought Hen Dutcher ruefully, as he started to run over the snow crust.
"Now that Hen is gone we'll be able to stay here a day or two longer,"
Dave announced. "We'll have the food to do it with."
"There's one good point about Hen Dutcher, anyway," grimaced Tom Reade.
"He's a good, sincere eater."
"He was eating us out of camp," d.i.c.k replied. "Now, fellows, with Hen and Fits gone, we're all by ourselves--just the crowd that we want. The snowcrust will bear, and we can move about. We ought to have a jolly time tramping about through the woods."
"Hunting!" proposed Harry. "We've got the air rifle."
"Fis.h.i.+ng," added Tom. "We brought tackle on purpose. We must be able to find some pond hereabouts."
"But say!" d.i.c.k suddenly interjected. "Do you fellows realize that we haven't been in the old shack since Mr. Fits left it? Queer as it may seem to some of you, I believe that Fitsey had a hiding place even in that little room. Let's go in there and see what we can root out in the way of mystery explained."
All six of the boys trooped around to the smaller structure at the rear of their camp. The door was still partly open. d.i.c.k, in advance, pushed his way inside.
"Well of all the b.o.o.bies, what do you think of us?" demanded young Prescott, in deep disgust.
"We wouldn't take any blue ribbons at a brains' show--that's certain,"
affirmed Tom Reade.
The cook shack went up to a pitched roof. Up under the roof some brackets had been made fast to the rafters. These brackets held a quant.i.ty of rough boards that looked as though they had been stored up there, years ago, to season indoors. Now, a rope hung down from this artificial garret.
"Let's see what we can find up there," suggested d.i.c.k. Taking hold of the rope, after shedding his overcoat, Prescott ascended, hand over hand.
"This is where Fitsey stayed daytimes," d.i.c.k called down. "And it's not a bad place, either. Here are two fur robes."
d.i.c.k tumbled them down below, followed by four pairs of warm blankets.
"It's all stolen stuff, I'll wager," Tom called.
"Likely enough," agreed d.i.c.k.
"See if you can find a lot of gold and gems up there," proposed Greg Holmes.
"Nothing in that line. But stand below, two of you, and catch."
d.i.c.k began to toss down canned goods, sealed paper cartons of crackers, canned fruits and the like.
"And to think that Fitsey took some of our poor food, when he had a grocery store like that up aloft!" complained Harry Hazelton.
"Well, he didn't want us to suspect what he had hidden away around the premises," d.i.c.k answered.