stant. Not one of
the Grammar School boys dreamed that they could best Fred Ripley's crew
in a rough-and-tumble, but Dick & Co. were all determined to be as
"game" as possible.

It was different with Hen Dutcher. He turned pale and shook like a leaf.

CHAPTER IX

THE INTRUDER WHO TRIED TO BE "BOSS"

The heavy door was thrust open--and then the Grammar School boys had the
surprise of their lives.

No swarm had invaded their camp. Instead a solitary man, clad in heavy
overcoat, and with a cap pulled down over his ears, stamped into the
cabin.

In his astonishment and dismay Dick Prescott could not repress the cry
of:

"It's Fits--Mr. Fits himself!"

"I see you hain't forgot me!" snarled the fellow, as he slammed the door
shut, dropped the bar in the place, and then stood with his back to that
barrier.

"See here, you can't stay here," declared Dick, his eyes flashing.

"Can't, eh?" jeered the fellow. "And what's going to stop me?"

"We are. You've no business here."

"And if I don't see fit to go, my young bantam?"

"Then we'll put you out. We're smaller than you are, but there are seven
of us--six, I mean," Dick corrected, after a glance at quaking Hen.
"You'll find we can take care of you!"

"You kids, eh?" laughed Mr. Fits hoarsely. "Why, if you boys started in
to climb over me I'd pick you off and scrunch you, like so many ants.
Just try it and see!"

To make his bragging good, Mr. Fits crossed the cabin, helping himself
to the chair by the table.

"I see you've got plenty of grub here," the big fellow went on. "I'll
bother you to make me some hot coffee and get me the best you have to
eat. Step lively, too! Any younker that doesn't move fast enough I'll
pick up and swat, and then I'll throw him out in the snow to stay."

Saying which, with a savage snort, Mr. Fits rose and took off his
overcoat, tossing it on to the next chair.

"What are you two whispering about?" demanded the rough intruder, eyeing
Prescott and Darrin, who were now at the further end of the log cabin.

"Never you mind," Dave retorted tartly.

"Don't give me any impudence, younker!" growled Fits.

"Then don't talk to us," Dick advised.

"I can see that I've got to trim a couple of you," muttered the intruder
sourly. "And then, too, I reckon my supper will be coming along faster."

"You'll get no supper here," Dick warned him.

"I won't, hey? Why not, I wonder?" leered the fellow.

"Because we have no poison t