n, awaking from a light doze, with a start and a
subdued snore.

"Dick Prescott, you tell us what the man on the clubhouse steps said!"
ordered Tom.

"But I've just told you that it's a secret."

"None of that, now!"

"But I can't tell secrets!" pleaded Dick.

"It isn't a secret at all. It's a good story, and you've got to let it
come out. We need a good one to get us started."

All now joined in the demand, but Dick shook his head protestingly.

"Honestly, fellows, it wouldn't be right for me to tell secrets," he
insisted.

The inner bar that locked the door by night had been dropped into place
ere the boys sat down to supper. But now Harry rose, went over to the
door and raised the bar.

"Fellows," he called back, "give Dick Prescott just one more swift
chance to tell us what the man on the clubhouse steps said. If he won't,
then grab him and fire him out into the night until he knocks on the
door and promises to be good."

Tom, Greg and Dave made a laughing bolt for their young leader.

"Some one's pulling the latch-string from outside," reported Harry
Hazelton, too startled, for the moment, to let the bar fall. But Tom
wheeled like a flash, leaped forward and dropped the bar back into
place.

"It's the fellow, or fellows, who have been living here before we came,"
whispered Dan in a half-scared voice.

CHAPTER VIII

WORMING THE TRUTH FROM A WHINER

"Let me in--quick!" demanded a voice.

"Move on!" ordered Dave.

"Whoever they are, they can break in through the windows, at any rate,"
muttered Harry Hazelton, in a voice that was just a trifle unsteady.

"We have legal right to occupy this cabin," called Dick through the
door. "No one else has any right to be here."

"I know that," answered the voice, "but let me in before I freeze!"

To the amazement of some of the others, Dick Prescott raised the bar and
swung the door open.

In came a figure--that of a boy. His cap was pulled down over his ears,
and a big tippet obscured most of his face. But Dick grasped him by the
shoulder as the youngster started to enter, followed by a heavy swirl of
snow.

"What in the world are you doing here, Hen Dutcher?" Dick demanded.

"Yes! What are you doing here?" chorused the rest.

"Lemme get near the fire?" begged Hen, in a choking, sobbing voice. "I'm
nearly frozen."

"Don't shut that door yet," called Dan, moving forward. "We didn't know
it was snowing. I want to see if it's a big snow."