Dan Carter and the Cub Honor Part 22

"Then you realize we had nothing to do with wrecking that building or taking the freezers?"

"I been checkin' around," the caretaker admitted. "Folks everywhere have a good word for the Cubs."

"I wish you could convince the trustees they should drop their action."

"That won't be so easy, Dan," Terry sighed. "Mr. Maxwell is a determined man. I'll put in a good word though for the Cubs."

"Thanks," Dan said gratefully. "Thanks a lot."

The next few days he waited expectantly, hoping that very good news would come of his talk with Terry. When nothing happened, he and the other Cubs became discouraged again. From Mr. Hatfield they learned that apparently there had been no change in the att.i.tude of the church trustees.

The game began with one of the high school teachers, Jim Veeley, acting as referee.

Midge and Dan played as forwards, Chips guarded Pat Oswald, and Red was a.s.signed to another bulky player. Fred and Chub sat on the sidelines as subst.i.tutes.

Brad, several inches shorter than his opponent at center, missed the toss-up. The Purple Five gained possession of the ball. Back and forth they pa.s.sed it, jeering at the Cubs. Then they fed it to Pat.

Before Chips could come awake, the Purple Five forward brushed roughly past him. Quick as a cat, he dribbled directly under the basket, and hooked an easy one through the netting.

The Purple Five had scored in the first minute of play!

A ripple of applause came from the audience for the basket had been a pretty one. On the south side of the gymnasium where rooters for the Bay Sh.o.r.e boys had congregated, loud cheering broke out.

"Get in there, Cubs!" rooters for Den 2 called. "Come on!"

The Cubs were on their toes now, determined not to let the Purple Five score again. But they couldn't seem to get their hands on the ball.

Pat was a one-man team, darting here, there everywhere. Poor Chips was winded trying to keep up with the fleet-footed forward. Repeatedly, the Purple Five scored, while Dan managed only one basket.

As the Purple Five's score climbed, Pat became even more flashy and bold.

He'd shove Chips aside to s.n.a.t.c.h the ball, and twice he jabbed him with his elbow. Twice the referee warned him for roughness. Then he called a personal foul.

A howl of indignation went up from the section of Bay Sh.o.r.e rooters.

"Served Pat right!" Chips muttered. "He's been getting by with murder."

He took his place on the freethrow line, waited for the noise to subside, and tossed the ball. It went through the netting, tallying a point for the Cubs.

After that, two other fouls were called in rapid succession on Pat. In each instance, the Cubs scored on the freethrow.

When the half finally ended, the score stood 10 to 5 in favor of the Purple Five.

As the boys rested, Mr. Veeley came around to speak to Pat.

"One more foul and you'll be out of the game," he warned. "Better watch it next half."

The game began again and Pat observed the rules more carefully. But now, instead of trying repeatedly for the ball, he would bounce it lazily back and forth among his teammates. Clearly, the Bay Sh.o.r.e boys meant to play a delaying game.

"Break it up! Break it up!" shouted the rooters.

The Cubs tried their best. Seeing the ball coming toward him on a straight pa.s.s, Dan reached for it.

At that instant, Pat darted in, striking the Cub's arm just as his fingers would have closed upon the ball.

A howl of anger arose from the crowd. Mr. Veeley held up his hands in signal of another personal fowl on Pat.

Dan made the free throw. Pat was ordered off the floor.

"You can't do that," he protested. "We don't have any regular subst.i.tute."

His arguments were unavailing. Pat finally left the floor, muttering to himself. A lean, lanky subst.i.tute took his place.

After that, it was a losing game for the Purple Five. With Pat on the sidelines, the team collapsed.

The Cubs brought the score even, and then Dan dropped three baskets in succession to win the game by a six point margin.

"Well, we won, boy!" Brad declared as they trotted off the floor after the final whistle had blown. "You were great, Dan!"

"We didn't have too much compet.i.tion after Pat went out of the game," Dan replied, brus.h.i.+ng dirt from his shorts. "I wish we could have won with him opposing us."

"It was his own fault," Brad shrugged. "Mr. Veeley warned him."

The Purple Five and their rooters took defeat with poor grace. There were mutterings of "We were robbed!" and remarks that the referee had been unfair.

"Maybe you want to call off the other two games," Brad suggested quietly to Pat.

"No such thing," the other boy retorted. "Next time we'll lick you so you'll never forget it. Besides, we need the cash."

"What d'you mean?" Brad demanded, already guessing the answer.

"The gate," Pat explained with an impudent grin. "You Cubs took in a lot of dough tonight. Well, we want our share. Half of it belongs to us."

CHAPTER 13 HALLOWEEN PRANKS

Word spread around the gymnasium of Pat's outrageous demand. Brad and Dan brought Mr. Hatfield, fully expecting him to reject the request.

"Pat, you feel you should have half the money?" the Cub leader questioned him.

"Sure." The captain of the Purple Five eyed the group of Cubs defiantly.

However, his gaze wavered under the level scrutiny of Mr. Hatfield. "We earned it, didn't we? What's more, we'd have won the game, if we hadn't been cheated."

"Cubs do not cheat," Mr. Hatfield replied. "When you know more about the organization, you'll understand that. We play according to the rules, that's all."

"You make 'em to suit yourselves," Pat growled.