CHAPTER XXI.
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.