"Fred and----" "Fred--who ?" cross-examined Dick.
"Nobody," Dutcher answered, his eyes on the floor.
Dick thought a moment before a great light dawned on him.
"So, Hen Dutcher, Fred Ripley and some of his crowd knew we were coming out here, and so they came along, too, and you with 'em, eh ?" "I tell you I wasn't with 'em," protested Dutcher.
"You walked all the way ?" "Most of the way." "And how did Fred Ripley and his crowd come ?" "On a wagon, and----" Here Hen Dutcher paused suddenly.
"I came alone," he bellowed wrathfully.

"There weren't any other fellows." "Don't you call Ripley a fellow ?" pressed Dick.

"You said that he and his crowd came on a wagon.

So they're going to play pranks on us, are they ?" "I don't know what you're talking about," protested Hen hoarsely.
Dave, Tom and Greg fastened on Dutcher, dragging him out of his chair.
This time Dick did not feel called upon to interfere.
"Now, you tell us all about this queer game!" commanded Dave Darrin, his eyes flashing warningly.

"If you don't, we'll shake it out of you; or we'll roll you in the snow until we soak the truth out of you! What do Fred Ripley and his crowd mean to do out here to-night ?" "I--I don't know," gasped Hen.
"Yes, you do," warned Dave Darrin crisply.
"No, I don't!" "Hen Dutcher," Dick interrupted firmly, "we are out here to enjoy ourselves, and we don't propose to be interfered with.