sm. He was
always thinking about himself and his own puny little interests. For the
life of him, Hen couldn't understand why he wasn't popular with other
fellows. He sometimes realized that he wasn't, but charged the fact up
to the other fellows being "too stuck on themselves, or on those
'boobs,' Dick Prescott and Dave Darrin."

"Let's run Hen ashore and rub his face in the snow!" proposed one boy
gleefully.

"You dassent!" flared up Hen. But half a dozen boys uttered a whoop and
skated toward him. Hen wobbled on his skates an instant, then turned,
intent on escape.

"Oh, say, fellows," called Dick, "don't be all the time picking on poor
old Hen."

"We'll just wash his face," shouted back one of the pursuers.

Hen knew they meant it, and he was traveling down the ice, now, under
full steam.

"Come on, fellows," called Dick, to Greg and to Tom Reade. "We don't
want to see Hen abused."

"Why does he get so fresh, then?" demanded Greg, but he started, as did
Tom. Dick & Co. were all fleet skaters. They surged to the front of the
pursuers, who took it for granted that Dick and his friends were going
to aid them, and therefore set up a shout of joy.

Hen Dutcher was traveling with so much effort that he panted hard as he
skated.

"Get him, Dick!" sang out Ben Alvord, as Prescott shot ahead of the
others.

Hen, looking back, saw Dick gaining on him swiftly, while Greg and Tom
were just behind.

"They're mean as all-git-out!" sputtered panting Hen. "Why can't they
let a fellow alone? Don't they think I've got as much right to talk as
the rest of 'em? Well, I'll show 'em that I have!"

At this moment Dick overtook the fugitive, linking arms with him.

"You let me alone!" snarled Hen. "You're meaner'n poison!"

"Am I?" smiled Dick. "See here, Hen, face about and don't let the
fellows bluff you out of a week's growth. Just turn on them. They won't
do anything to you."

"If they try it on, I'll fix 'em, no matter what desperate thing I have
to do to get square," snarled Hen.

"Oh, cut out all the war talk," Dick advised him gently. "Now, wheel
about."

"You lemme alone! I know where I'm going," snapped Hen, making a big
effort to break loose from Dick's hold. The effort proved a disastrous
one, for Hen tripped himself, slid along for a few feet and then sat
down with a jarring bump on the ice. Dick Prescott all but shared the
same fate.

"Now, we've got him!" chuckled Ben Alvord, racing in and reaching o