CHAPTER 6 A CHALLENGE FROM PAT

“‘P. O.,’” Dan thoughtfully repeated the initials. “The only thing that pops into my mind is Post Office.”

“That’s hardly what I meant,” Brad replied, smiling. “The letters were freshly carved. I could tell from the color of the wood. Besides, there were tiny splinters on the floor.”

Dan surged with excitement as he realized the importance of the Den Chief’s discovery. Since the initials had been cut so recently, it must mean that they had been carved by the person or persons who had wrecked the church.

“I know of only one person with the initials ‘P. O.’,” Brad said significantly. “Can’t you guess?”

“Not Pat Oswald?”

“Who else? Of course we have no proof.”

“Pat and his gang might have been here after the Cubs left last Saturday! Say, that could have been what happened! They wrecked the place and we get blamed.”

“That’s the way I figure it,” Brad nodded. “But as I said, we have no proof.”

“Let’s tell the trustees.”

“That’s for Mr. Hatfield to decide, Dan. This accusation against the Cubs is dead-serious business and we can’t make any false moves. If we’d charge Pat with this, we might be called on to prove our claims. Could we do that?”

“Not yet, I guess.”

“That’s why we must keep a tight lip and see what we can learn.”

Dan knew that Brad’s reasoning was sound. Though they suspected Pat and the group of boys he ran with, they certainly could not prove it. Inquiry in the neighborhood, however, might bring to light additional clues.

Mr. Hatfield, unaware of Brad’s discovery, was still talking to Old Terry and the trustees. His efforts to convince them of the Cubs’ innocence was unavailing. The only concession that the church officials made was to agree that the Cubmaster might appear before the entire church board the following Wednesday.

Breaking off the conversation, the trustees drove away.

Old Terry, left behind, began to assert his authority.

“Now you boys get off this property!” he directed. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble?”

“It’s unfair to accuse us!” Chips said furiously. “We didn’t do the damage, and you should know it! Cubs aren’t hoodlums.”

“You wanted that freezer, and you didn’t care how many windows you smashed to get in!”

“That just isn’t so,” Dan declared. “We never did get the freezers. Like enough they’re still in the basement. Have you looked?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Why don’t you?” Chips demanded. “I guess that would prove—”

“It wouldn’t prove anything,” the caretaker retorted, locking the church door. “Now begone, will you?”

“Come along, boys,” Mr. Hatfield said quietly. “No use arguing about this affair. Everything will be taken up at the meeting Wednesday.”

Decidedly downcast, the Cubs followed their leader to the car. During the ride into Webster City, they assured him repeatedly that they were innocent of the charges against them.

“I believe you,” Mr. Hatfield said. “Don’t worry too much about it. I think—I hope at any rate—that everything can be explained and adjusted. Unfortunately, Elwin Maxwell is a very stubborn man.”

“He’s chairman of the board too, isn’t he?” Brad recalled.

“Yes, I gather he is the one who is pressing the suit.”

Even the thought of a twenty thousand dollar claim filed against the Scout organization dismayed the Cubs. If such action were taken, there would be unpleasant newspaper publicity and court sessions. The Cubs would be given a black-eye in the community. Even if they later were cleared, they might never completely live it down.

“How about the party for our folks Friday?” Dan presently asked. “Now that we’re in this mess, shall we drop our plans?”

“Absolutely not, Dan.”

“So far we haven’t any ice cream freezers.”

“We’ll get them somewhere. If necessary, we’ll buy ice cream at the drugstore. The party goes on exactly as planned.”

The Cubs brightened at this decision and began to discuss ways and means of clearing themselves of the outrageous charge against them. Brad told of the discovery he had made inside the church.

“Pat Oswald,” Mr. Hatfield mulled over the name. “I hadn’t thought of him. Brad, you may have hit upon something!”

“Do you think it will clear the Cubs?”

“I’m afraid not, Brad. But at least it gives us a starting point for our own investigation.” Mr. Hatfield stopped the car for a traffic light. Shifting gears to go on, he added: “Now, we must say nothing about finding the carved initials, boys. But see what information you can pick up about Pat and his gang.”

“Pat is known as a troublemaker,” Chips declared.

“We’ll need facts, not hearsay,” Mr. Hatfield reminded the boys. “By the way, when you fellows were out at the church Saturday, you didn’t notice anyone loitering around?”

“Not actually,” Dan said. “Chub thought he saw a ghost though. We rather made fun of him.”

“Maybe what he saw was someone hiding in the bushes,” Brad pointed out.

“That’s so,” Dan agreed. He hadn’t intended to mention his own experience, but now decided to tell about seeing the shadowy figure slithering toward the graveyard.

He related the incident hesitantly, half expecting the Cubs to tease him. No one did.

“Obviously, you didn’t see a ghost,” Mr. Hatfield commented. “You probably caught a glimpse of one of those hoodlums, Dan.”

“Funny thing though,” Dan replied meditatively. “The shadow I saw didn’t look like a boy ghost. The figure was rather tall and thin. I had the queerest feeling at the time, almost the same as I did today—”

“What do you mean, ‘as you did today?’” Brad alertly tripped him up.

The remark had slipped from Dan unintentionally. He certainly didn’t want the Cubs to think that he was jittery. Or that he was imagining things. He remained silent.

“Come on, give!” Brad commanded.

“It was nothing really.”

“You did see someone again today at the church?”

“No,” Dan answered. “It was just a feeling I had while we were in the church. You’ll laugh I know, but I had the strangest feeling that we were being watched.”

“Watched?” said Mr. Hatfield. “By whom?”

“I can’t explain it. As I said, it was just a feeling. I—I felt as if everything we said and did inside that building was being noted.”

“That was imagination, I’m afraid,” Mr. Hatfield smiled. “I can understand the feeling though. The church interior was quiet and filled with strange echoes. Don’t give it too much thought Dan.”

Feeling slightly rebuked, Dan made no mention of the incident of the tapping bell. Nor did Chips speak of it. Neither of them believed that there were ghosts either at the old church or anywhere.

One by one the Club leader dropped the boys off at their separate homes. He promised that the moment he had anything to report about the church matter, he would call a special meeting.

Meanwhile, the Cubs continued to make plans for the Friday night ice cream party. Search as they would, however, they could not locate even a single ice cream freezer.

“No hope of getting those two in the church basement either,” Dan gloomily remarked to Brad Tuesday night after school. The two boys stood at a street corner, books under their arms. “For that matter, I wouldn’t even ask Old Terry to borrow ’em now.”

“He’d just turn us down,” Brad agreed.

Unobserved by the two Cubs, Pat Oswald and a companion had come up behind them. As Dan turned he saw the pair and knew they deliberately had been listening.

“What’s that about Old Terry?” Pat asked.

“Nothing,” Dan replied shortly.

“Oh, I heard what you said. You want to borrow an old ice cream freezer from him, and he won’t let you have it.”

“Anything wrong in wanting a freezer?” Brad asked pleasantly. “Maybe you know where we can get one.”

“Maybe I do,” Pat grinned. “But I wouldn’t tell, not in a million years. I’d hate to be a Cub!”

“You’d hate to be one?” Dan demanded. Pat’s manner irritated him. He disliked the older boy’s smug smile and attitude of knowing-it-all. “Why?”

“Cubs are babies—little baby bears!”

“You don’t know anything about the organization!”

“Don’t I? Well, let me tell you a thing or two, Mr. Danny Boy Carter, everyone in Webster City has heard about the mess they’re in now!”

Dan and Brad were chagrined by this thrust. So the story had spread that church authorities had threatened to sue!

“The Cubs are sunk!” Pat chortled. “By the time the court gets through, there won’t be an organization left. It will serve you right, too, for wrecking the old church.”

“We didn’t do it, and you know it,” Dan retorted. “Say, weren’t you and your gang out that way last Saturday?”

“Who says so?” Pat returned, instantly on the defensive.

“You know plenty about what happened.”

“Only what I heard,” Pat replied. His bluster had faded away.

Dan was elated to note that his sharp question had worried the other. He would have pursued the matter further, but Pat and his friend moved off.

“You scored that time, Dan,” Brad said when they were alone again. “All the same, go easy in talking to him. If we’re to learn anything, we mustn’t give away what we suspect.”

“I’ll be more careful,” Dan promised. “Did you notice how he acted when I suggested that he’d been around the church Saturday?”

“I did, Dan. Tomorrow night I’m going out there again, and canvass the neighborhood. It may be that we can dig up someone who saw the damage being done. In that case, the Cubs could be cleared.”

“Pat and his gang were responsible, I’ll bet on that.”

“I think so myself,” Brad agreed. “But don’t forget, we must prove any charges we make.”

Though the Webster City newspapers carried only brief stories on the damage which had been done at the Christian Church, word of it spread very rapidly.

No mention had been made of the Cub organization or the threatened law suit in either the Webster City Herald or the Journal. Nevertheless, rumors circulated that the boys of Den 2 were responsible for the damage. The Cubs smarted under the humiliation.

“We’ll never live this down,” Midge said morosely the next afternoon as the Cubs waited in their clubroom.

Mr. Hatfield had called a special meeting and the boys were expecting him at any moment. He came in just then, so sober-faced that the Cubs instantly knew bad news awaited them.

“I’ve just come from talking to the church trustees,” he reported after hanging up his hat on the wall rack. “Our meeting was to have been later, but our lawyer arranged an earlier conference.”

“Our lawyer?” Brad asked, startled. “Do we have one?”

“The Scout organization has obtained the services of a very able attorney. We thought it best to employ counsel.”

“Then this accusation against us is really serious?” Brad questioned. The other Cubs, deeply worried, had gathered about in a tight, tense little group.

“Yes, it’s serious,” Mr. Hatfield admitted drawing a deep breath. “As I started to tell you, our lawyer and some of the Scout officials talked to the trustees.”

“Wouldn’t they listen to reason?” Red inquired.

“No. Several of the board members were inclined to accept our word that the Cubs wouldn’t and couldn’t have destroyed church property. Maxwell wouldn’t go along with the others. He’s determined to sue unless we pay for the damage.”

“Twenty thousand dollars,” Chips muttered. “Why, that old wreck of a place isn’t worth half that amount!”

“I’m afraid it is, Chips. However, a damage claim of twenty thousand is ridiculous. Mr. Maxwell himself recognizes that, for he has offered to settle for ten thousand if the organization pays within ten days.”

“The old skinflint!” Red exclaimed.

“We’ve refused,” Mr. Hatfield went on. “The next move is up to the trustees. All we can do is wait.”

Now that the Cub leader’s report had been made, the boys were in no mood for a long meeting. Brad took up a few matters concerning the Friday party, including the necessity for finding at least one ice cream freezer.

“Tomorrow is our last chance,” he told the Cubs. “Everyone get busy. Ask friends and neighbors and let’s see if we can’t find one.”

As Brad ended his little pep talk, the boys were startled to hear a loud pounding on the closed clubroom door.

Chub and Dan both jumped up to see who had rapped.

Dan reached the door first. No one was there. He thought though, that he heard a muffled snicker, and certainly he detected the sound of retreating footsteps. As he listened a moment, he noticed a folded piece of paper lying on the cement floor almost at his feet.

“What’s that?” Chub cried, seeing the paper at the same instant.

Dan picked it up. He unfolded the coarse, soiled sheet to discover a pencil-scrawled message.

“THE CUBS ARE SISSIES,” it read. “WE CAN LICK YOU IN BASKETBALL ANY OLD DAY. HOW ABOUT A GAME? THIS IS A CHALLENGE. LEAVE YOUR ANSWER IN A BOTTLE IN HAGERMAN’S ALLEY.”

The note was signed “Pat Oswald and the Purple Five.”