Writing out the letters of the alphabet in orderly rows, he gave each a number, thus:
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4
and on through the alphabet.
When this brought no solution he tried a second combination, starting with the number “2” instead of “1”.
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5
For the next twenty minutes he worked on, trying many combinations. Each time, he started off with a higher number for the letter “A,” working up as high as “7”.
“It’s no use,” he decided at last. “I may as well go home.”
On the pad before Dan was a string of unused alphabetical letters. Absently, with no hope of striking upon anything that would work, he wrote in corresponding numbers, starting with “8.”
A B C D E F G H I J K L8 9 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 1 2 3
Referring to Jacques’ coded message, he then began to transfer the numbers into counterpart letters.
“Let’s see,” he mused. “‘0’ could be either C, M or W; and ‘2’ might be E, O or Y. Number 6 would have to be I or S. Number 1 could represent D, N or X. And 4 would have to be G—”
Dan went no further, for suddenly he saw that the puzzle actually was beginning to make sense. Excitedly he wrote in the first combination of letters:
020614COMING
“Yipee! I’ve got it!” he muttered. “I’ve found the key!”
A strong gust of wind unexpectedly flapped the light canvas which hung across the cave doorway.
So engrossed was Dan that he did not notice. Nor did he see a shadowy figure crouching on the platform.
Then the light suddenly was extinguished. Startled, Dan jerked to attention.
As he groped for a match with which to relight the lamp, a deep voice entoned:
“Take warning, Dan Carter! Remain away from Skeleton Island!”
Dan felt the hair rise on his neck. Chills slithered down his spine. The mysterious voice, he realized, came from the cave entranceway.
Recovering from the first shock of surprise, the boy sprang to his feet, upsetting his chair.
In three long strides he reached the entrance and jerked aside the canvas flap.
No one was there. But disappearing down the steps Dan saw a lean, dark figure.
“Hey, you!” he shouted furiously.
The intruder only ran the faster, pulling a jacket high around his neck to shield his face.
Angered by the threat and determined to learn who had been spying upon him, Dan started down the steps in hot pursuit.
The intruder, a fleet runner, raced across the beach, heading for a clump of bushes along the highway. Dan pounded closer and closer at his heels.
Then, the one ahead unexpectedly tripped in the loose sand. He stumbled and fell. In a flash Dan was upon him, pulling the jacket away so that he could see the culprit’s face.
“Ross!” he recognized him. “Ross Langdon! Well, of all the dirty, low tricks!”
“Take it easy, will you?” panted the Cub from the rival Den. “You’re smashing my ribs!”
“Serves you right! So you’ve been spying on the Cave!”
“Aw, I wasn’t spying,” Ross protested. “Can’t you take a joke?”
“How long were you hiding there behind the canvas flap?”
“Only a minute or two, Dan. Honest! I saw the light burning, so I thought I’d take a peek and see who was there.”
“It was a lousy trick—especially that warning about going to Skeleton Island.”
“Scared you, didn’t I?” Ross chuckled, squirming to free himself from the other’s tight grasp.
“You startled me. But I don’t scare that easily.”
“Like fun! You nearly jumped through the roof of the Cave! What were you working on so late, anyhow?”
“Oh, nothing.”
“Nothing? You were so absorbed you didn’t hear a thing until I waved the canvas flap to make the light go out. You were figuring out something with paper and pencil. Your income tax?”
“Just a little work for the Den,” Dan replied vaguely.
“Keeping it to yourself, eh? If you’ll climb off my mid-section, I’ll amble back there with you. I’ve always been curious to see the set-up of your much advertised Cave.”
Dan made no comment as he let Ross up. Both boys dusted their clothing free of sand.
“Well, let’s go,” Ross said impatiently. He started toward the Cave.
“I was just thinking it’s time to go home,” Dan said, following the other boy reluctantly. “It’s getting late—”
“I’ll help you close up the Cave for the night.”
“I don’t need any help.”
“Sure you do. Don’t be so inhospitable,” Ross chuckled. “You may as well invite me, because I’m going along anyhow.”
Dan made no further protest as he fell into step with the Den 1 boy. He knew that Ross had in mind learning if he could, the nature of the paper upon which he had been working. Dan was equally determined to keep Jacques’ coded message a Den 2 secret.
“If Ross hadn’t pulled that fool trick, I’d have had the code completely broken by this time,” he thought. “Now I’ll have to take the message home, because I don’t want him to see it.”
The two Cubs climbed the stairs and entered the dark Cave. Dan groped his way to the table and lighted the wick of the kerosene lamp.
In its flickering light, the room somehow did not appear exactly as he had left it. His chair lay overturned. Papers on the table were very disordered. Dan did not recall having left them so.
Not wishing Ross to see the coded message upon which he had been working, the boy looked about for it. But the paper was not on the table. Nor could he find it anywhere on the floor.
Even the scratch papers on which he had written various combinations of letters, had disappeared.
“Lose something?” Ross inquired as his gaze traveled about the well-furnished room. He added admiringly: “Nice diggings you have here! Wish our Den had a cave.”
Dan, thumbing through the loose papers on the table, made no reply.
“What’s wrong?” Ross demanded.
“I’m looking for some work I was doing when you broke in here,” Dan answered reluctantly. “Ross, you didn’t—”
“How could I have taken anything?” the other demanded. “You were hot on my heels every minute.”
“Yeah, that’s right, Ross. You were alone when you came here?”
“Sure. What you driving at anyhow?”
“I’ve lost something—an important paper. You saw me working on it when you came up here.”
“I remember, Dan. Maybe you stuffed it in your pocket when you took after me.”
“I don’t think so. I left everything here on the table.”
To make certain, Dan searched all his pockets. The coded message was in none of them.
Thinking that perhaps a gust of wind had carried the paper far across the floor of the cave, he looked in every corner and even under the couch.
“Ross, it’s gone,” he said with sudden conviction.
“But how could it have disappeared? Honest, Dan, I didn’t take a thing. And none of the Cubs from Den 1 were with me.”
“I believe you, Ross,” Dan assured him. “But someone has been in here while we were on the beach. I sensed it the instant I came in.”
“Anything else missing?”
“Not that I’ve noticed. Mr. Hatfield never allows us to keep anything of great value here because we can’t lock up the cave.”
“Gosh, if it was my fault, I’m sorry,” Ross said. “I wouldn’t have pulled that stunt, only it struck me as a good joke. Who would have come here?”
“That’s what I can’t figure.”
“We didn’t see anyone on the beach, Dan.”
“I know, but we weren’t paying particular attention.” Dan prepared to blow out the kerosene lamp. “Let’s go down there now and look around.”
The boys descended the long flight of wooden steps to the beach. A pale half-moon only faintly illuminated the stretch of glistening sand.
“No one around, Dan,” Ross said, looking up and down the beach. “You’ll probably find that paper in the morning.”
The other boy made no reply. He was staring at the sand near the base of the steps.
“What do you see now?” Ross demanded.
“Someone has been here,” Dan said quietly.
“Footprints, you mean?” Ross was inclined to scoff at the other boy’s observation. “You can’t tell anything by that. You had a Den meeting tonight. Probably those large footprints were made by one of the Den Dads.”
“That could be, Ross. But I’m noticing something else too.”
“Well, don’t keep it a secret, Wise Guy,” Ross said, a trifle irritably. “What have those bright little searchlights of yours picked up?”
Dan pointed to a series of tiny circular marks in the hard-packed sand. Approximately one-half inch deep and perhaps a foot and a half apart, the imprints led down-beach into a clump of bushes.
“What’s so strange about that?” Ross demanded.
Offering no reply, Dan walked over to the bush. As he had expected, no one now was hiding there.
However, in the soft sand appeared additional footprints from a large man’s shoe. And beside them were several mysterious circular marks which he thought might have been made by someone using a walking stick.
Dan turned to Ross who had followed him. “Will you do me a favor?” he asked.
“What kind?” the other boy asked with caution.
“Say nothing to any of the Cubs about what happened tonight—either those in your Den or mine.”
“W-e-ll,” Ross hesitated, for he knew the story would make good telling. “Okay, I’ll keep mum if you will. The joke didn’t pan out quite as I expected. But why do you care?”
“I’ll tell you, Ross. What happened tonight convinces me someone has been spying on the Cave. I know Mr. Hatfield would just as soon the fact isn’t advertised.”
“You think a gang of boys—fellows who aren’t Cubs—are aiming to make trouble?”
“I don’t believe boys are mixed up in it, Ross.”
“Grownups?”
“That would be my guess.”
Ross was inclined to make light of Dan’s theory. “Oh, you’re building up too much out of nothing,” he insisted. “You’ll find that missing paper in the morning. Mark my words.”
“Let’s hope you’re right,” Dan said as the two boys started for home.
Actually, he had no hope whatsoever. A conviction had grown upon him that the paper left by Jacques never would be seen again.
And with its disappearance had vanished his last chance to solve the mysterious coded message.
Dan was at the Cave before seven o’clock the next morning. Early as was the hour, Mr. Hatfield had arrived ahead of him and already had moved out most of the camping equipment which was to be taken to Skeleton Island.
“Why, hello, Dan,” the Cub leader greeted him in pleased surprise. “I hardly expected to see you before eight o’clock.”
“I scarcely expected to see myself,” Dan grinned. “Fact is, I came to look for a paper I lost last night. Mr. Hatfield, I nearly broke the code only to have the message disappear!”
Quickly the boy related everything that had occurred.
“Ross and I agreed not to tell any of the Cubs,” he added. “I figured it would only worry them.”
“You’re right in keeping quiet about it,” Mr. Hatfield said at once. “I hadn’t intended to mention it, but for several days I’ve had a feeling this place is being spied upon. Frankly, I don’t like it.”
“Any idea who may be doing it, Mr. Hatfield?”
“None whatsoever.”
“Do you think it has anything to do with that message we found, or Jacques?”
“I’ve wondered, Dan. My mind is not at rest with regard to that boy. Obviously he was a Cub, yet I’ve been unable to find any Den or Pack in which he ever was registered. Of course, he could have given us a fictitious first name.”
“It was miserable luck losing the coded message last night,” Dan complained. “I’d just figured out the first word—‘Coming’—when whiff went the light.”
“The paper may be here. Let’s make a thorough search.”
Mr. Hatfield swept the cave floor while Dan searched every possible cranny. The missing paper was not found.
“Well, at least nothing else appears to be missing,” the Cub leader said after he had checked all the camping equipment. “It seems that whoever came here last night must have been after that coded message. Dan, if I’d known this earlier—”
“You’d have called off the camping trip,” Dan completed, guessing at his thought.
“Yes, Jacques must have had a connection with Skeleton Island or the name wouldn’t have appeared on the paper. I have an uneasy feeling about going there.”
“The camp will be well guarded with so many of the fathers going along.”
“I realize that, Dan, but even so—”
“The Cubs would be terribly disappointed if you called off the trip now,” Dan interposed. “Oh, heck, Mr. Hatfield, I shouldn’t have told you about losing that paper!”
“On the contrary, you did exactly right. Well, I suppose it wouldn’t be fair to call off the trip on such short notice. We’ll go on just as we planned.”
“Oh, thanks, Mr. Hatfield!”
“Don’t thank me,” the Cub leader rejoined. “Just keep your lips buttoned and your eyes open after we reach Skeleton Island. If you notice anything out of the ordinary, report to me. But don’t say or do anything to worry or stir up the Cubs.”
“I’ll remember,” Dan promised.
“Now lend a hand with this camping equipment,” Mr. Hatfield said briskly. “I want to have everything at the dock before eight o’clock.”
Two hours later found the Cubs in their temporary camp on Skeleton Island. Tents already were up, balsam beds in preparation of making, and a trench fire started for the noon-day meal.
A beach near the camp sloped gently out into the river more than fifteen yards. This the Den Dads marked off with ropes and floats. Beyond was a somewhat deeper area, suitable for the more experienced swimmers.
“I wish we had a diving raft,” Brad remarked, surveying the possibilities.
“Why not build one?” proposed Mr. Hatfield. “I saw some old boards and a log or two lying back in the brush. We easily can build a small raft.”
For an hour the Cubs busied themselves carrying boards and logs to the riverside. Mr. Hatfield supervised the work, showing the boys how to fit the logs together to make a firm framework for the platform.
When it was ready for use, Dan, Brad and Sam Hatfield anchored the raft in deep water.
“I’m all tuckered out,” Dan announced, pulling himself up on the platform to rest. “You know, camping is mighty hard work!”
“It is until your camp is set up right,” Sam Hatfield agreed. “After that, it’s easy. If the Scouts decide to buy this property, we’ll have cabins and an improved beach. The brush will need to be cleared away. But it will make a first class camp.”
“I hope the Scouts decide to buy,” Dan said, rolling over so that the sun would warm his back.
“The site seems ideal to me. It’s close to Webster City. The beach area is unusually good, and the island has a natural spring. Plenty of woodland for nature trails too.”
“You think the Scouts will buy it?” Brad asked. Seated on the edge of the raft, his dangling feet beat a steady tattoo in the water.
“That remains to be seen,” Mr. Hatfield replied. “There are several factors to be considered.”
He did not amplify the statement, for just then Midge’s father called from shore to warn that lunch would be ready in twenty minutes.
With a shout of pleasure, the Cubs scrambled for the beach. Dan and Brad dived from the raft, racing each other in.
“No fooling, you get faster every day,” Brad praised his companion. “If you don’t take Ross for a cleaning in our next swimming meet, I’ll miss my guess.”
“I only hope if I win I do it in a straightaway race, not on a technical point,” the younger boy rejoined. “Ross still figures he lost on a fluke.”
By the time the Cubs were dressed, lunch was ready. Squatting around the glowing coals, they filled their plates with steak, potatoes and generous helpings of carrots.
As his crowning achievement, Mr. Holloway produced a pan of delicately browned biscuits baked in a home-made reflector oven which he had fashioned.
“How does the meal taste, boys?” he asked.
“Swell!” approved Red, reaching for another biscuit. “As a cook, we’ll give you the tin medal!”
When the last scrap of food had disappeared, the Cubs doused sand on the fires, dispatched the dishes and then stretched out to enjoy a rest.
Chips, however, soon became restless.
“I think I’ll amble down the beach and explore,” he announced. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll find the entrance to that old tunnel Mr. Hatfield told us about!”
“If you do, write me a letter about it,” Brad joked, stretching lazily. “I’m treating myself to a snooze. That swim made me drowsy.”
“Don’t go out of sight of camp, Chips,” Mr. Hatfield advised the boy as he started away.
“Aw, Mr. Hatfield—”
“I’m asking the Cubs to stay pretty much in this section of the island,” the Cub leader explained. “Later on, we’ll do our exploring in a group.”
“Oh, all right,” Chips consented reluctantly.
“Want me to go along?” Fred asked.
Chips, acting as if he had not heard, ambled off. Fred, who preferred to remain in camp, let him go alone.
Fresh water was needed, so Dan and Mack went to the nearby spring for a bucket of water. The other Cubs finished making their balsam beds. This work completed, they joined Brad under the shade trees.
“Wonder what’s become of Chips?” Mr. Hatfield presently remarked, scanning the beach area. “I don’t see him anywhere.”
“You know Chips,” said Brad significantly.
“I do indeed. His intentions are good, but he’s apt to wander off.”
“Odd that he went by himself,” Brad mused. “He really gave Fred the brush-off. Want me to see what’s become of him, Mr. Hatfield?”
“I may look him up myself,” the Cub leader replied, getting to his feet.
However, it was unnecessary for him to go in search. Scarcely five minutes later, Chips came running up the beach, obviously excited.
“Hey, fellows!” he shouted. “Come quick!”
The Cubs uncurled themselves from comfortable nooks, and hastened to see what was wrong.
“What’s up, Chips?” Brad demanded.
“I want to show you something,” the boy said impressively. “Gosh, it scared me half out of my wits!”
“What did you find?” Dan demanded.
“Just follow me.”
At a dog-trot, Chips led the Cubs down the beach to a clump of willows. There he pointed dramatically to an object lying in a slight depression.
“A skeleton!” Midge exclaimed, recoiling at the gruesome sight.
“Chips, how did you happen to find it here?” asked Mack with a shudder.
“Oh, I was just walking along the beach,” the boy answered vaguely. “There it was in the sand.”
Brad bent down to examine the bones and the grinning skull.
“Don’t touch the thing,” Fred said, pulling back. “I’ll call my father.”
“Wait a minute,” Brad stopped him. “Chips, you say you just happened along here and found this skeleton?”
“It was exactly where you see it now.”
“Sure it was! Afteryouput it there!”
“Why, such an accusation,” Chips protested, but his grin gave him away. “Okay, Wise Guy!”
“I’m wise enough to know varnish when I see it! These bones all have been treated. So ’fess up, Chips. Where did you get the skeleton?”
“From the school laboratory,” the boy admitted with a laugh. “Professor Johnson let me borrow it to play a joke on the Cubs. It would have worked too, if you hadn’t been so smart.”
“The joke doesn’t seem funny to me,” Brad replied severely. “It would have given us all a bad feeling to think anyone had died on the island. We want this camping trip to be a pleasant experience.”
“Guess I made a mistake,” Chips muttered, gathering up the skeleton. “It seemed like a good idea when I first thought of it.”
Disheartened by the failure of his joke, he carefully replaced the bones in a carrying box which he had hidden in the willows.
“Don’t take it so hard,” Brad said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I know you went to a lot of bother to pull off that joke.”
“The Cubs would have fallen for it too.”
“Sure, they would have, Chips. But it would have stirred them up. You know as well as I do that if things go wrong while we’re here, the Scouts may decide not to buy the island site for their camp.”
“You’re right, Brad,” Chips admitted. “I’m sorry. I won’t pull any more stunts while we’re here.”
Back in camp once more, several of the Cubs elected to try their luck fishing. Dan, Chips and Brad, who were to help Mr. Holloway with the cooking that night, remained behind to check over supplies.
“The boys may bring in a few fish,” the Den Dad remarked. “If so, we should have a good meal tonight. But just in case—we’ll be prepared to fall back on ham and eggs.”
Dan wandered off to gather wood for the fire. Upon his return with a large armful of dry pieces, he noticed that the water pail was empty again.
“There must be a herd of thirsty camels around here,” he complained. “I filled that bucket not twenty minutes ago!”
“I’ll do it this time,” Chips offered, eager to make amends for the skeleton. “You’ve done your share of work already.”
Seizing the bucket, the boy disappeared in the direction of the spring.
Brad, Dan and Mr. Holloway busied themselves with preparations for the evening meal, setting out supplies that would be needed.
“How about another batch of biscuits?” the Den Dad proposed. “The Cubs went for them in a big way this noon.”
“Fine!” approved Dan. “And baked potatoes will be easy to fix. We can wrap them in wet clay and roast them on the coals.”
“Know where we can get any clay?” Mr. Holloway asked, searching through the supplies for a package of flour. “It’s mostly sand around here.”
“There’s some back by the spring. I noticed it when I was filling the water bucket awhile ago.”
“Suppose you see if you can dig up some, Dan. Take an old tin can.”
The spring was situated well back from the camp site in a natural shelter of willows, ferns and vines.
Dan had covered less than half the distance when Chips suddenly plunged into view. The water pail left behind, he obviously was excited as he ran toward the other boy.
“Dan!” he exclaimed breathlessly. “I—I saw someone at the spring!”
Dan scarcely knew whether to laugh or take Chips seriously.
“What’s so strange about that?” he demanded. “Was it one of the Den Dads?”
“Of course not!” Chips retorted, exasperated. “What do you think I am, anyhow? A scared cat? I saw this man peering at me as I reached down to dip water from the pool at the spring.”
“Sure you aren’t pulling another skeleton trick?”
“Heck, no! I swear it! Dan, I really saw this man—an ugly looking fellow. It gave me a bad start. I dropped the water bucket and ran.”
“It may have been Jabowski. I’ve been told he stays on the island while Mr. Manheim is away.”
“This man had dark bushy hair and hadn’t shaved in three or four days.”
“You’re sure he didn’t have horns sprouting from his forehead?”
“Wise guy! You think I’m making it up!” Chips said indignantly. “It gave me a bad feeling, I tell you. I wish you could have seen the way he looked at me. It froze my blood.”
“Where was this monster?”
“Lurking back behind the bushes. As I started to fill the pail, I glanced up. He was staring at me with hatred in his eyes. Then he ducked back out of sight. I dropped the water bucket and ran.”
Dan was only half convinced that Chips was not trying to play another joke. However, he noticed that the boy was breathing hard and actually looked a trifle pale.
“You probably saw Mr. Jabowski,” he said with a shrug.
“Like fun I did! I’ve seen Jabowski at the Webster City Yacht Club. It was someone else.”
“A fisherman maybe who came to the island by boat.”
“We haven’t seen any boats around all day,” Chips contended.
“I’ll go back there with you,” Dan offered. “Come on.”
“You wouldn’t be so brave if you’d seen that leering face,” Chips said, following unwillingly.
The two boys approached the spring warily. All was tranquil. A gentle breeze stirred the dense growth of bushes which hemmed in the spring and pool. Otherwise there was no movement.
“No one here,” Dan observed. “Sure you didn’t imagine it, Chips?”
“I certainly did not.”
“Well, no one is here now, at any rate. I’ll fill the water bucket while you look around to see if you can find any clay. We need it to wrap baked potatoes in.”
Dan moved on to the spring. He stooped to drink deeply of the cool water and then reached down to pick up the tin bucket which Chips had abandoned.
In the still water of the circular pool he could see his own reflection. And then he saw something more!
Merging with the dark of the bushes was a face, the evil countenance that Chips had described so vividly. As he watched, fascinated, a hand slowly was raised.
“Look out, Dan!” called Chips.
Dan ducked. As he flattened himself, a stone was hurled by the man who crouched in the bushes. Sailing over his head, it struck the pool with a hard splash.
A commotion in the bushes informed Dan and Chips that the man who had thrown the stone now was retreating.
“You see!” Chips cried excitedly, joining his friend at the pool’s edge. “I told you the truth, didn’t I?”
“You sure did,” Dan muttered, scrambling to his feet. “If I hadn’t ducked, that stone would have clipped me on the back of the head. Come on, let’s nail him!”
Angry to think that the intruder had dared to risk injuring them by deliberately hurling a stone, the Cubs started after him.
Already the man was far away, moving with cat-like tread through the dense growth of vines and underbrush. Apparently familiar with the terrain, he slipped between the trees like a shadow.
“No use trying to follow,” Dan decided after they had gone only a few yards. “We’ve already missed our chance to see who he was.”
“And if we trail him a long distance from camp, he might try some of his tricks,” Chips added in an undertone. “Dan, that man’s face scared me. He looked downright ugly.”
“He did,” Dan agreed. “I only caught one glimpse of his face, but that was enough.”
“Ever see him before?”
“N-o-o,” Dan replied slowly. “For just a minute I thought—”
The boy was on the verge of saying that the man had resembled “Frisk,” the associate of Paper Bag Eddie. However, his identification had been most uncertain.
“You thought what, Dan?”
“Oh, nothing. I didn’t really see the man’s face plainly. Wonder why he’d try to harm us?”
“Let’s report to Mr. Hatfield.”
To this suggestion, Dan promptly agreed. Picking their way back to the pool, the boys made short work of filling the water pail and gathering clay.
Back in camp once more, they took Mr. Holloway and the Cub leader aside to relate what had happened.
“The man actually hurled a stone?” Mr. Hatfield questioned, his face sober.
“He certainly did,” Dan confirmed. “It missed my head by inches.”
Very much disturbed, Mr. Hatfield and Midge’s father warned the two boys to make no mention of the incident to the other Cubs.
“I’ll take Mr. Suell and explore the island,” the Cub leader decided. “Mr. Holloway will remain in camp with the boys. Without letting them know that anything is amiss, keep them there.”
“It soon will be supper time,” Mr. Holloway agreed. “I’ll find enough work to occupy their time.”
Mr. Hatfield and Mr. Suell set off at once to search for the stranger who had accosted the boys at the spring.
Meanwhile, Chips and Dan helped with supper preparations, trying not to reveal their inner excitement to the other Cubs. As time wore on and neither the Cub leader nor Mr. Suell returned, it became increasingly difficult to contain their secret.
The boys were nearly through supper when the two finally appeared in camp. Slipping almost unnoticed into the group around the fire, they dished up their own suppers.
“Learn anything?” Dan asked the Cub leader in a whisper.
“Tell you later.” Mr. Hatfield’s glance warned the boy to say no more at the moment.
In silence, but with no show of uneasiness, the Cub leader ate his supper. While the other boys were clearing away the dishes, he took Dan, Brad and Chips aside to relate what he and Mr. Suell had noted in their explorations.
“Did you find that fellow we saw by the spring?” Chips questioned before Mr. Hatfield could speak.
“No, Chips. We tramped the island from one end to the other. Not a sign of him.”
“No signs?” Dan echoed.
“My statement wasn’t quite accurate,” Mr. Hatfield corrected. “We found signs in the way of footprints, a well-beaten trail, and broken bushes. But we failed to catch up with the man himself.”
“Where did the trail lead?” inquired Chips.
“We picked it up by the spring and followed it the entire length of the island through the woodland and marsh. It emerged not far from the old hotel.”
“Maybe the fellow hid in there,” Dan suggested.
“That’s what Mr. Suell thought. We looked the place over, but couldn’t get in. All the doors were locked and the blinds drawn. If Mr. Jabowski looks after the place for Mr. Manheim, he doesn’t hurt himself working at the job.”
Having told the boys everything he and Mr. Suell had learned, the Cub leader again warned them to say nothing of the affair to the other boys.
“Frankly, I can’t figure out why anyone would hurl a stone without provocation,” he said. “I’m afraid someone may be annoyed because the Cubs have camped here.”
“But we had a perfect right to do it,” Dan protested.
“Of course. Mr. Manheim granted permission. But things may be going on here of which he has no knowledge.”
“For instance?” interposed Brad.
“I can’t say, because I don’t know. It’s just a feeling I have. Mr. Suell and I will take turns guarding the camp tonight.”
“Then you think the Cubs may be in danger here?” Brad asked, startled.
“No, Brad, if I thought so, we’d break camp and pull out tonight. We’ll set up a watch as a precaution. First thing in the morning, I’ll go to the mainland to have a talk with Mr. Manheim.”
After the camp work was out of the way, the Den Dads built a huge fire on the beach. Mr. Suell then gave the boys a brief talk on Cubbing in other countries of the world, telling them that the organization extended to 50 lands.
“And are the ideals and aims the same everywhere?” Brad questioned, tossing another stick of wood into the flames.
“Practically so, Brad. In most countries, the Kipling Jungle stories have been made the basis of Cubbing. Akela is the name of the Cub leader in nearly all nations. The two-fingered sign of the Wolf is the Cub sign around the world.”
Dan, who lounged on the sand beside Brad, had listened with keen interest. But now his attention wandered.
Beyond the rim of flickering light, he thought he saw movement. Was that shadowy form a trick of wind and tree boughs? Or might someone be spying upon the camp?
“Wake up, Dan!” Brad nudged him hard in the ribs. “Mr. Hatfield just asked you to lead in the singing of ‘Cheer, Cheer, the Den’s All Here.’ Are you asleep?”
Dan tore his eyes from the area of darkness. After all, he told himself, he probably had fancied the shadow. Imagination played strange tricks upon a fellow.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t hear. Guess I was half asleep.”
He launched into the song which was sung to the tune of “Hail, hail, the gang’s all here.” The Cubs joined in, singing lustily.
At its conclusion, the boys all repeated the Law of the Pack, and the council fire came to an end.
As the Den fathers were tramping out the last of the coals, Dan walked over to the clump of bushes which had been directly in his line of vision. He was relieved to find no one hiding there.
But on the ground beneath a blackberry bush was a sheet of paper torn from a cheap writing tablet. Unable to read it in the darkness, Dan took it to Mr. Hatfield.
The beam of his flashlight picked out the scrawled words: “GET OFF THIS ISLAND. STAY AWAY!”
“A warning, eh?” Mr. Hatfield commented. “This little affair has gone quite far enough!”
“Whoever left the note must have done it only a few minutes ago,” Dan said. “I thought I saw someone in the bushes just as you asked me to lead that song.”
“The coward!” Mr. Hatfield muttered, folding the warning and placing it in his pocket. “Afraid to show his face. Instead he throws rocks and sneaks up in the darkness.”
More annoyed than afraid, the Cub leader made a thorough inspection of the bush where the unknown intruder had hidden only a few minutes before. A few large footprints had been imbedded in the moist turf. But the one who had left the note, had fled.
“No use trying to track him down in the dark,” Mr. Hatfield said in disgust. “Tomorrow I’ll take this up with Mr. Manheim.”
With another reminder that no mention was to be made of the matter to the other Cubs, the leader sent Dan off to bed.
However, the boy observed that neither Mr. Hatfield nor Mr. Suell turned in. Instead, the two men posted themselves near the entrance to the tents. Throughout the night, they kept a small fire burning.
Dan was awakened by the excited shouts of the other Cubs who were donning trunks for a pre-breakfast swim.
At the beach he raced Brad to the raft where they rested for a moment.
“Anything happen last night?” Dan asked, eager for a report.
“Not that I heard of. Mr. Hatfield and Mr. Suell sat up until dawn. No one came near the camp.”
“That’s good,” Dan said in relief. “If things start popping, our camping trip will be called off. I like it here.”
“So do I, Dan. I hope the Scouts buy this site, because if they do, the Cubs will get to come here often. But I know Mr. Hatfield is worried. The way matters are going, he isn’t likely to recommend the place as a permanent camp.”
“I’m thinking the same,” Dan agreed. “Oh, well, maybe Mr. Manheim will take a hand in finding out who’s hiding on the island. After all, it’s his property.”
A call to breakfast sent the two boys racing full-blast for shore. By the time they had scrambled into their uniforms, an appetizing meal of orange juice, bacon and eggs awaited them.
The Cubs ate their fill and then listened as Mr. Hatfield outlined plans for the morning.
“I’ll take Dan, Brad and Chips with me to Webster City to pick up a few supplies,” the Cub leader said. “Also to attend to an important errand. Mr. Suell has planned a hike for those who remain behind.”
“I’d rather go to Webster City,” said Mack, who suspected that he was being excluded from an important mission.
“Me too,” chimed in Midge. “Can’t we all go?”
“Not this time,” Mr. Hatfield turned them down. “We’ll make a full report when we get back.”