y," 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. We have a right
to be here, and no one else has. We've wormed it out of you that Fred
Ripley and some other fellows have come out here to torment us. Fred
Ripley has no right to come here and play mean tricks on us."

"Who gave you the right to be here?" demanded Hen sullenly. "Wasn't it
Fred Ripley's father?"

"Yes; but that gives Fred no right to be mean in the matter, and Lawyer
Ripley would be the first to say so, if I went and told him."

"And then you'd be 'Sneak Prescott,'" taunted Hen.

"I didn't say I was going to tell Fred's father," Dick answered, his
color rising, "and I haven't any thought of it, either. Any fellow of
anywhere near my own size who calls me a sneak can have his answer--two
of them," Dick went on, displaying his fists. "You know that well
enough, Hen Dutcher. You're one of our own crowd--that is, you go to the
Central Grammar with us, and yet you've joined in with some High School
boys to bother us and spoil our fun. Who's the sneak, Hen? Who will the
fellows at the Central Grammar call the sneak when they hear about
this?"

Hen began to look d