gnaw.

"Well, by hokey!" gasped Tom. "I never had head enough to think of
that."

"If we were gagged like Greg and Dan, we couldn't do the trick," Dave
rejoined. "Come here, Harry; get in front of me and I'll gnaw your
wrists free."

Dick paused long enough in his work to say:

"No need, Dave. When Tom is once free he can use his knife and have us
all turned loose in a jiffy."

Prescott possessed strong, fine teeth. He gnawed away at the cords to
such good advantage that Reade soon had the use of his hands.

"Now, I'll do as much for you, Dick," Tom proposed, reaching for his
pocket knife.

Within a very short time all six were free, and Greg and Dan, their
mouths free of the gags, told indignantly how they had been engaged in
preparing supper when the door opened and Ripley and his crowd burst in.

"And now I suppose the rowdies are eating up the supper," finished Greg
vengefully.

"I guess they've got it about finished by now," Prescott added grimly.
"But we six are free. If we're any good we'll get our cabin back and
make it our castle against all comers."

"Good!" cried Dave, a fiery flash in his eyes. "But how?"

"That's what we've got to figure out," Dick replied thoughtfully. "But
we'll do it."

CHAPTER XX

THE COOK SHACK DISASTER

"First of all," Dick continued, "it's going to be chilly, soon, in this
shack. Put on some fuel, Harry, won't you?"

Hazelton complied with the request. By a common instinct all of the
Grammar School boys gathered closely around the stove, extending their
hands and warming themselves.

"The battle can't be ours a bit too soon," observed Tom Reade dryly.
"We've simply got to eat soon. Too bad we carted all of Mr. Fits's
larder into the cabin this afternoon."

"But what are we going to do about retaking our cabin," pressed that
budding young war horse, Darrin.

"I'm thinking fast over every plan that comes to me," Dick answered
thoughtfully. "If any of you other fellows think of one first don't be
backward with it. I'll promise not to be jealous."

"Hang that Dutcher hound, anyway!" growled Tom Reade angrily. "I can't
get over his mean, dirty work."

"The best way is not to mention the fellow," Dick answered coldly. "He's
not worth it."

"Oh, he isn't, eh?" muttered a boy who had just stolen softly to the
outside of the shack door and now stood there listening. That
eavesdropper was Hen Dutcher, who had slipped out of the cabin to see
how life fared