"Oh, pshaw! Why didn't you say so before?" came in a half smothered voice as Dutcher thrust his head partly from under the blankets. Then he added, suddenly, in a quaking voice:
"Say, you fellows better hide—quick! If old Fitsey is in the cook shack there's bound to be some shooting."
With that Dutcher hid his head once more. But Dick, Greg and Harry paid no heed to him. They were busy getting on coats, caps and mittens. A few moments later they had the door open, and stood out on the hard crust of snow, waiting to receive the approaching party.
Dave espied them, and waved one hand without calling.
"You'd better get back in here! You'll get hurt!" warned Hen Dutcher, standing well back from the doorway.
Like a flash Dick leaped for the doorway.
"Hen, you keep quiet in there. Don't set up a yell at the very time when a little stealth is needed."
"But it's dangerous to fool with people like Fitsey!" choked Hen.
"Keep quiet! If you can't help, don't hinder. Don't be an utter pinhead, Hen."
Now that they were in sight of the cabin, Dave and his companions, and the two men with them, put on extra speed. Dick stole off to meet the approaching ones.