Dan Carter And The Money Box Part 15

"That's right, Dan. Knights of old always were ready to defend those who could not help themselves. They were prepared to fight in the defense of liberty."

"Cubs can't fight real battles," protested Chips.

"Moral battles are very real ones," the Cub leader corrected. "We must strive always to maintain honor-never to allow our names to be blackened."

"Isn't that what the cops are trying to do now?" Chips demanded before he stopped to think how the question might sound. "They're making such a fuss 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 said quietly. "The police are not trying to blacken my name. Quite the contrary. Their job is to investigate. I have complete confidence that they can bring to light no information which will discredit either myself or 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 covered them with loose dirt.

"Notice that old farmhouse," Dan remarked, pointing to an unpainted, tumble-down dwelling visible some distance away. "Wonder if anyone lives there?"

"It looks deserted," Brad agreed.

The house was a gloomy, two-story structure with sagging porches. Roof s.h.i.+ngles curled and the brick foundation had partly given away.

"Maybe that place has a ghost!" Midge suggested with a laugh. "Let's go over and find out!"

"I thought we came out here for roofing discs," Brad reminded him. "If we start off on a wild goose chase-"

"A ghost chase," Midge corrected. "Oh, the house can wait. But it does look interesting. After we get the discs, let's find out if anyone lives there."

"Fair enough," Brad agreed. "If we don't start moving, we won't even get our discs for armor. It will be turning dark before long."

Made aware that the sun fast was lowering, the Cubs walked briskly on to the cleared area where four new houses had been built. All were boarded up for their interiors had not been completed. None were occupied.

"Now you're certain it's all right to take the discs?" Mr. Hatfield asked Brad doubtfully. "We don't want to get into any trouble."

"The contractor said I could have them all. I only took enough for my own suit of armor."

"In that case, go to it, boys," Mr. Hatfield said. "While you're gathering discs, I'll look at the houses."

The discs were scattered over a large area, half buried in the moist earth.

Brad helped Babe, who was less agile than his companions. With six boys and a scarcity of metal discs it became a race to see who would get enough 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, he noticed 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. I had permission to take discs-not to lead a mob through any of the buildings."

"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 effectively halted.

As the door swung outward, a figure loomed up before him.

Chips was so astonished at seeing anyone in the house, he could only stare. The man was stoutish and wore soiled, wrinkled clothes. A stubble of beard gave his face a shadowy appearance.

More than anything else, Chips was made aware of the dark eyes which seemed to bore directly into him.

"I-I beg your pardon," he mumbled, gathering his wits. "I-I didn't know anyone was in the house."

"Who are you?" the man demanded harshly.

"A Cub Scout. We're all Cubs." Chips was grateful that the other boys were behind him, gathering closer. "We're here picking up roof discs."

"Well, beat it!" the man said curtly. "You have no business on the property. Get moving!"

Before Chips or the other Cubs could make any reply, he slammed the bas.e.m.e.nt door in their faces.

CHAPTER 9 A "Deserted" House

"Well, how do you like that?" Dan muttered as the Cubs gathered in a group near the newly constructed house.

"Who was he, Brad?" Midge asked the Den Chief. "Not the contractor?"

"No, I never saw this fellow before-although his voice sounded sort of familiar."

"Maybe he's one of the workmen," Red said uneasily. "After all, we are on private property."

"I had permission to come here for those discs," Brad insisted.

"Furthermore, I don't believe that fellow was a workman. He didn't talk like one."

"Or look like it either," added Chips. Of all the Cubs, he was the only one who had obtained a clear view of the man.

"You didn't know him, did you?" Dan inquired.