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"The money isn't coming in as fast as we'd like," she declared. "We're especially short from the persons we expected to give fairly large amounts. So during the next few days dig in and really do your best."
Dan and Brad were the last to leave, lingering behind to help Mrs.
Hatfield and Mrs. Holloway clean up the litter.
"I guess you meant us, Mrs. Hatfield," Brad remarked as they closed the church doors. "Dan and I haven't been very lucky in signing up our best prospects. Especially Mr. Merrimac."
"You've worked hard I know," she praised him. "All the same, it might be worth while to call on Mr. Merrimac again. He might change his mind if you use your best powers of persuasion."
"I doubt that, knowing him," Brad replied gloomily. "We can try though."
After leaving Mrs. Hatfield, the two boys walked on to the Merrimac home.
Neither of them had any enthusiasm for the interview ahead.
"Well, let's get it over with," Brad sighed, as he shoved hard on the doorbell. "He can't do any worse than turn us down again."
Mr. Merrimac kept the boys waiting. Repeatedly, Brad jabbed his finger on the doorbell.
"He's in there," Dan insisted. "I can hear him moving around."
"Like as not he's seen us from a window and is hiding out," Brad returned in disgust. "Merrimac is playing hard to get."
Annoyed because the elderly gentleman refused to come to the door, he punched the doorbell two or three times in rapid succession and then gave up.
"Makes me sick," he complained. "Mr. Merrimac at least ought to see us.
That's only common courtesy."
In leaving the premises, the boys walked around toward the rear of the house.
"Why, the kitchen window is wide open!" Dan observed in surprise.
Mr. Merrimac, they both knew, was no fresh air fiend. Furthermore, the weather was far too cold for one comfortably to keep a window wide open.
"That's funny!" Brad said, stopping short. "S-a-y!"
As the two Cubs stared in utter amazement, a pair of legs protruded from the window.
Before either Dan or Brad could recover from astonishment, a man leaped lightly to the ground. Seeing the two boys, he ducked his head and ran toward the alley.
CHAPTER 13 Hot Biscuits
"Gosh, a thief!" cried Brad, the first to recover from shock. "He's been rifling Mr. Merrimac's place!"
With one accord, he and Dan gave chase to the intruder.
From the start it was a losing race. The man already had put a considerable distance between himself and the Merrimac house.
Long-legged and surprisingly agile for his weight, he continued to gain on Dan and Brad.
Finally, he slipped between two buildings and was completely lost.
Winded, the boys halted to consider what next to do.
"Not a chance to catch him now," Brad puffed. "Let's call the police, and then go back to Merrimac's place. He may have slugged that old man."
"Brad, didn't you think that fellow looked like the tramp we saw out near the marsh?"
"Well, he had the same general build, Dan. I didn't see his face."
"Neither did I. He purposely kept his hat pulled low over his eyes. Heck, just our luck to let him get away! For all we know, he might even be the one who stole the money box."
"That's possible," Brad agreed. "Our best bet is to put police on his trail. If we can furnish a good description, they may be able to pick him up."
Circling the block to make certain the intruder had not emerged elsewhere in the vicinity, the boys sought a policeman. Unable to find one in the neighborhood, they telephoned their report to the Central station.
"Well, that's done," Brad said in relief. "Now let's hustle back to Merrimac's place and find out if the old man's been hurt. I've got a mighty uneasy feeling."
Upon arriving at the Merrimac home a few minutes later, the boys saw that the kitchen window remained wide open.
"Raise me up and I'll look in," Dan proposed.
Brad lifted him so that he could grab the sill and partly support his own weight.
"See anything?"
"There's no one on the floor. But I can only see the kitchen. Think I should crawl on in?"
Brad was given no opportunity to decide, for just then a hand was laid heavily upon his shoulder.
Startled, he whirled around so suddenly, that his supporting shoulder deprived Dan of a substantial base. The younger boy lost his balance and slipped to the ground.
"What's going on here? Trying to break in, eh?"
Dan and Brad found themselves confronted by Atwood Merrimac. A sack of groceries clutched in one hand, he held Brad with the other as he gazed sternly at the two Cubs.
"Oh, it's you, Mr. Merrimac," Brad murmured in relief. "We're glad to see you're all right."
"I can imagine you're glad to see me! Sort of caught you in the act, didn't I?"
Brad and Dan were aghast.
"You don't think-you can't think we were trying to break in!" the latter gasped.
"Unless appearances are deceitful, you gave a first cla.s.s imitation of it, my lad! How did that window get open?"
In their anxiety to clear themselves, both boys talked at once.