Dan Carter And The Money Box Part 23

Mr. Merrimac's wrinkled face softened as he listened.

"So you thought I might have been laid out," he declared in satisfaction.

"I didn't know anyone had that much interest in my welfare!"

Then as the full implication of the open window came to him, he added anxiously:

"This makes the second time my house has been entered! I wonder what's missing this time?"

Handing the sack of groceries to Brad, the elderly man unlocked the kitchen door.

"Come in, come in," he invited, as the boys hesitated. "We'll see what's what."

Nothing appeared to have been disturbed in the kitchen. The room however, was in a frightful state of disorder. Mr. Merrimac had not washed the breakfast dishes, and the remains of a meager lunch remained on the white porcelain table.

"I haven't had time to clean up yet today," he apologized. "Living alone makes one fall into careless habits."

With the boys close at his heels, Mr. Merrimac went from room to room. In none was there any evidence that anything had been taken.

"Everything is exactly as I left it a half hour ago when I went to the grocery store," Mr. Merrimac said in a puzzled tone. "You're sure you saw that fellow crawling out of the window?"

"We not only saw him, we chased him down the alley," Dan said earnestly.

"You believe us, don't you?"

"Yes, I'm not doubting your word. Only it seems strange. Twice in a week my house has been entered. This time you must have driven the thief off."

"That's probably what happened," Brad agreed. "I certainly rang the doorbell hard."

"When your place was entered that other time-you really lost money?" Dan asked hesitatingly.

"Certainly, I did. More than two thousand dollars. I kept it in a tin box in a drawer of the dining room buffet."

Brad and Dan were convinced that the money they had found in the church must belong to Mr. Merrimac rather than to the other claimants. But if such were the case, how could the box ever have been transferred to the church bas.e.m.e.nt? And what had become of it since then?

"You may be receiving a call from the police any minute," Dan warned the old man. "We called them and reported the thief."

"Drat it, what did you do that for?" Mr. Merrimac exploded. "Haven't I enough trouble without being pestered by officers who'll ask me a hundred questions."

"I'm sorry," Dan apologized. "We didn't know that nothing had been taken.

We weren't even sure that you might not have been slugged."

"There! I shouldn't have been so testy," Mr. Merrimac said. "You did the right thing."

Dan and Brad decided that nothing could be gained at the moment by speaking to the old man about the church building pledge. It would be far wiser, they thought, to bring up the matter at another time.

"Come back whenever you feel like it," Mr. Merrimac invited the Cubs as he escorted them to the front door. "I'm always glad to see you."

"Why, thanks, Mr. Merrimac," Dan returned, startled by the elderly man's cordiality.

"Later on, we'll talk about the church building fund," Mr. Merrimac added, apparently guessing why the boys had come. "Losing all that money upset me. If I get it back, I'll not forget you."

With this promise, Dan and Brad had to content themselves.

All week the Cubs worked on their armor and made preparation for the scheduled Round Table gathering. So enthusiastic were all the Cubs, that it had been decided, not only Den 2, but the entire Pack comprised of three Webster City dens, would take part.

Nearly every morning before school, Dan was up early making articles which could be used at the grand knighting ceremony.

"I'm glad to see you painting and making designs," his mother praised his work. "I wish though, you'd conduct your creative experiments outdoors.

Fresh paint doesn't go well with the pattern of the kitchen linoleum!"

Dan took the hint and used the back porch for his work.

One morning while the dew was still heavy on the ground, he was painting a triangular banner to hang on the back of a ceremonial chair. Dan brushed on two red diamonds and then experimented with a few bright blue "X" marks sprinkled at random over the surface.

"Hard at work?" inquired a friendly voice.

Dan glanced up to see the milkman looking over his shoulder. He had not heard the wagon drive up.

"Sure," Dan grinned, moving aside so the man could reach the milk box at the doorstep. "I'm getting ready for the big Cub Scout knighting ceremony we're to have at the church."

"The Cubs really do a lot of interesting things," replied the milkman. He slipped two bottles into the box and gathered up the empties. "I read the other day how the Cubs found some money-say, weren't you the one who turned up that tin box?"

"Guilty," agreed Dan. "I almost wish I hadn't found it too! So many persons have put in a claim. Then to make matters worse, the box disappeared again."

"I read about that too. Some neighbors of Mr. Hatfield told me the police gave him a pretty rough going over."

"They questioned him, the same as they did me," Dan replied indignantly.

"But that's routine. He doesn't know what became of the money. Someone swiped it from his house."

"When was the box supposed to have disappeared?"

"No one knows. We took it there the night it was found in the church.

Then the next morning when the police came, Mr. Hatfield couldn't find it."

"You know, I've been wondering if I should report this," the milkman said thoughtfully.

"Report what?"

"I didn't think anything about it until after I'd read about the box disappearing, Dan. Then I began to wonder. I was delivering milk to the house across the street from the Hatfield place. It must have been about six o'clock."

"What did you see?" Dan asked impatiently.

"A woman came out of the cellar exit. She seemed to be quite an old lady in a black dress and a shawl of the same color. I couldn't see her face."

"Mrs. Hatfield never dresses like that. She has modern clothes."

"The woman had a bundle under her arm. The object, whatever it was, had been wrapped in a newspaper."

"What day was this?"