CHAPTER 8 Round Table Plans
Two days had elapsed.
The Cubs were worried and so was Mr. Hatfield.
Twice since the disappearance of the money box, the Cub leader had beencalled to the police station.
Each time he had been questioned politely, but detectives made it clearthey were not completely satisfied with his answers.
"Three persons have laid claim to that money, and one at least has comefairly close to naming the amount you say was in the box," Mr. Hatfieldwas informed. "Furthermore, trustees of the church feel the cash shouldbe turned over to them because it was found on church property. Now yousay your home wasn't broken into to your knowledge, and yet the boxdisappeared. It doesn't make sense unless your own son or one of theCubs--"
"The Cubs, one and all, are honest," Mr. Hatfield retorted firmly."Anyway, they knew only that I took the box upstairs. I told no one whereI hid it. So let's keep them out of this."
The police had been quite decent about questioning the boys.
Even so, the Cubs felt that they were involved. Dan especially consideredthat by finding the box he had brought trouble upon Mr. Hatfield and theDen.
"Why did I have to go digging into that coal pile anyway?" he beratedhimself. "We wouldn't be in this mess except for me."
"Nonsense, Dan," Mr. Hatfield chided. "I'm glad you found the box.Furthermore, we'll not waste valuable time worrying about the matter. Thepolice are free to make any investigation they wish. We'll cooperate."
The Cub leader kept the Cubs so busy they had little time to think muchabout the missing money box.
In addition to soliciting funds for the church, they worked almost dailyon their plans for King Arthur's Knights of the Round Table.
Den one in Webster City also would take part in the Crusade program. Atthe end of the month the two dens expected to unite their efforts for agigantic knighting ceremony. Prizes were to be awarded the Den putting onthe best display of talent.
In a determined effort to beat their rivals, the boys of Den 2 assignedthemselves a full schedule of work.
Aided by their mothers, the Cubs constructed armor of cardboard. Thecarefully cut pieces were painted with aluminum, bronze and gold.
Red and Chips decked themselves out in mesh-type trappings, fashioninggarments of burlap which they painted in metallic colors.
Next, the Cubs designed shields and mounted cardboard spears on the endsof broomsticks.
"If we have time, I'll make myself a cardboard horse," Brad announced."Also, we ought to have some painted banners to hang on the walls. Thenthis place will look like a regular knight's hall."
Temporarily, the Cubs were using the church study as a meeting place.When the weather turned warm again in the Spring, they planned to resumesessions in their own quarters, the cave high over the river.
Brad had made his own suit of armor by sewing small roofing discs ontoburlap. The Cubs, frankly envious, acknowledged the job as the bestturned out.
"I could make a good suit too if I had some of those discs," MidgeHolloway remarked. "Where'd you buy 'em, Brad?"
"I didn't. Saw a bunch of 'em lying on the ground near a new house that'sbeing built. I asked the contractor if I could have 'em and he said Icould."
"Say, are there any more of those discs?" Dan demanded eagerly.
"I guess so. I didn't take them all."
"I want some," piped up Babe.
"So do I," Chips chimed in. "Lead us to 'em, Brad."
"It's a long hike from here," the older boy replied dubiously. "Fact is,to get there we'd have to hike a couple of miles, going and coming. It'sright at the edge of the marsh."
This information temporarily dampened the enthusiasm of the Cubs. ThenDan spoke up.
"Well, why don't we go? It's a good day for a hike. If we had more ofthose roof discs, we could turn out armor that would look like the realthing."
"And we might win first prize!" Fred said, his interest kindling. "Whatdo you think about it, Dad?"
"Let's take it to a vote," his father returned. "All in favor of thehike, say Aye."
Every Cub voted to go.
"When do we start?" Dan asked impatiently. "If we don't make it today,those discs may be gone."
"That's right," Brad agreed. "Even when I was there, not many werekicking around."
"Brad, you're sure it's all right to take the discs?" Mr. Hatfield asked.
"Yes, the contractor told me I might have all that were lying around."
Reassured, the Cub leader agreed with the boys that no time should belost in hiking to the site.
"We might have a weiner roast too," he proposed. "On the way, we'll passa store and can buy anything we want."
The Cubs quickly put away cardboard and paint. All were dressed warmlyenough for the hike except Babe who had to be sent home for sturdy shoesand a heavier jacket.
The youngster was back at the church in ten minutes, however, his pocketsbulging.
"Now what have you got?" Chips asked him suspiciously.
Babe grinned and produced several crushed cookies and an apple.
"You and your appetite," Chips muttered, shaking his head. "Why don't yougrow up?"
Babe refused to take offense. "I thought I might get hungry on the way,"he defended himself.
"You're always hungry," Chips retorted. "If you'd spend less time feedingyour face and more time studying the rule book, maybe you'd be promotedto Wolf Rank."
"Cut it out, Chips," advised Brad, who had overheard the remark. "Babe iscatching onto Cub ways fast. I'll wager he'll be a Wolf before anothercertain Wolf I know moves on up to Bear rank."
"Now who's rubbing it in?" Chips complained. "I'm working hard and youknow it!"
"Sure, sure," Brad said, giving him a friendly clap on the back. "Onlymaybe you ought to dig in a little harder on those elective requirementsbefore you toss stones at anyone else."
Despite the lateness of the season, the day was a pleasant one. SelectingHighway 23, the Cubs, led by Brad and Mr. Hatfield, soon set off in thedirection of the marsh.
Their way skirted a built-up area near the city limits. A short distancebeyond, they passed a sparsely settled section where a few new houseswere in process of construction.
"How much farther?" Babe asked, limping along beside Brad.
He had attached himself like a puppy to the older boy, but found itimpossible to imitate his smooth, easy gait.
"We're almost there now," Brad encouraged him. "Guess you aren't used tohiking, are you?"
"My feet hurt."
"Sure, and why wouldn't they, with those tight shoes? Better get yourselfsome that fit, Babe. The Cubs do a lot of hiking."
"Say, when do we eat?" demanded Red. The brisk walk had made him veryhungry.
"Well, we could have the roast before we gather discs," Brad said,glancing over the terrain. "It's for the fellows to decide."
"All in favor--" shouted Red.
Every Cub voted to halt then and there and build their fire.
Mr. Hatfield selected a suitable place at the edge of the marsh, not farfrom the road. Under his direction, the boys cleared away dry leaves anddebris to insure that the fire could not spread.
While the Cubs roasted weiners on long sticks over the coals, Mr.Hatfield again talked over plans for the coming Round Table jamboree.
"The Pack has chosen a motto or code of honor for this month," he toldthe boys. "It is this: 'BE ALWAYS READY.'"
"I'm ready right now--for another weiner!" laughed Midge, reaching intothe sack Mr. Hatfield had brought along.
"I guess you meant the code in a more serious sense, didn't you, Mr.Hatfield?" Dan asked.
"That's right, Dan. Knights of old always were ready to defend those whocould not help themselves. They were prepared to fight in the defense ofliberty."
"Cubs can't fight real battles," protested Chips.
"Moral battles are very real ones," the Cub leader corrected. "W
e muststrive always to maintain honor--never to allow our names to beblackened."
"Isn't that what the cops are trying to do now?" Chips demanded before hestopped to think how the question might sound. "They're making such afuss about that old money box--"
Brad, who sat next to the boy, gave him a quick jab in the ribs.
Mr. Hatfield, however, did not take offense.
"I'm glad you brought up the matter of the money box, Chips," he saidquietly. "The police are not trying to blacken my name. Quite thecontrary. Their job is to investigate. I have complete confidence thatthey can bring to light no information which will discredit either myselfor any Cub Scout."
Their meal finished, the boys now cleared away the litter. Brad and Mr.Hatfield not only stamped out the dying coals, but for safety coveredthem with loose dirt.
"Notice that old farmhouse," Dan remarked, pointing to an unpainted,tumble-down dwelling visible some distance away. "Wonder if anyone livesthere?"
"It looks deserted," Brad agreed.
The house was a gloomy, two-story structure with sagging porches. Roofshingles curled and the brick foundation had partly given away.
"Maybe that place has a ghost!" Midge suggested with a laugh. "Let's goover and find out!"
"I thought we came out here for roofing discs," Brad reminded him. "If westart off on a wild goose chase--"
"A ghost chase," Midge corrected. "Oh, the house can wait. But it doeslook interesting. After we get the discs, let's find out if anyone livesthere."
"Fair enough," Brad agreed. "If we don't start moving, we won't even getour discs for armor. It will be turning dark before long."
Made aware that the sun fast was lowering, the Cubs walked briskly on tothe cleared area where four new houses had been built. All were boardedup for their interiors had not been completed. None were occupied.
"Now you're certain it's all right to take the discs?" Mr. Hatfield askedBrad doubtfully. "We don't want to get into any trouble."
"The contractor said I could have them all. I only took enough for my ownsuit of armor."
"In that case, go to it, boys," Mr. Hatfield said. "While you'regathering discs, I'll look at the houses."
The discs were scattered over a large area, half buried in the moistearth.
Brad helped Babe, who was less agile than his companions. With six boysand a scarcity of metal discs it became a race to see who would getenough for a suit of armor.
"If we come out short, maybe we can buy a few at a roofing supply place,"Dan commented. "Here's another!"
In reaching to pick it up from amid a pile of boards and broken brick, henoticed that the cellar door of one of the houses stood slightly ajar.
"Say, fellows!" he exclaimed. "This house is unlocked!"
"Then we can go through it!" shouted Chips, hurrying over.
"Hold on!" Brad stopped him. "These houses are supposed to be locked. Ihad permission to take discs--not to lead a mob through any of thebuildings."
"Oh, it won't hurt just to peek inside," Chips protested.
Before Brad could stop him, the boy shoved open the door.
"Chips!" Brad shouted furiously.
But the boy needed no additional warning. Already he had been effectivelyhalted.
As the door swung outward, a figure loomed up before him.
Chips was so astonished at seeing anyone in the house, he could onlystare. The man was stoutish and wore soiled, wrinkled clothes. A stubbleof beard gave his face a shadowy appearance.
More than anything else, Chips was made aware of the dark eyes whichseemed to bore directly into him.
"I--I beg your pardon," he mumbled, gathering his wits. "I--I didn't knowanyone was in the house."
"Who are you?" the man demanded harshly.
"A Cub Scout. We're all Cubs." Chips was grateful that the other boyswere behind him, gathering closer. "We're here picking up roof discs."
"Well, beat it!" the man said curtly. "You have no business on theproperty. Get moving!"
Before Chips or the other Cubs could make any reply, he slammed thebasement door in their faces.