CHAPTER 1 A Prize Contest
A stir of excitement swept the room, causing the Cub Scouts to shift restlessly in their seats.
The monthly meeting of the Pack was nearing its end. Not a Cub from either Den 1 or Den 2 had failed to attend, for Sam Hatfield, their leader, had promised the boys “a real surprise.”
Now, as a break came in the regular program, the Cubs sensed that the moment for the long awaited announcement had arrived.
“Something worth while is in the wind, that’s sure,” whispered Brad Wilber. The Den Chief spoke to a sandy-haired boy whose nose was buried in a book. “Mr. Hatfield has kept his secret from everyone. What do you think is up, Dan?”
“Huh?” demanded Dan Carter, coming suddenly to life. Reluctantly he closed “The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood,” a volume obtained a few minutes earlier from the Webster City Public Library.
“Oh, don’t bother that book worm,” laughed Midge Holloway, another Cub in Den 2. “He never hears anything that goes on at a meeting, even if he is the official Denner.”
“I resent that slur,” retorted Dan goodnaturedly. “I hear every word.”
“Sure he does,” declared Chips Davis, coming to the defense of his friend. “Dan’s just smart enough never to waste any of his time.”
A loud, offensive snicker greeted this remark. Looking quickly across the cave, the Cubs of Den 2 saw that the offender was Ross Langdon, a tall, gangling boy in Den 1.
Now Dan and Ross always had been athletic rivals. In a recent swimming contest the Den 2 boy had soundly defeated the older lad. Ross hadn’t taken it too well. Whenever an opportunity afforded, he made belittling remarks.
The Cubs of Den 2, Brad, Red Suell, Chips, Midge and Fred Hatfield, the son of their leader, were in no mood to “take” anything from Ross. So they pinned him with hard glares, and Midge muttered: “Quiet, you!”
“I didn’t say a word,” retorted Ross, pretending innocence. “You were the one who remarked that Dan never hears anything.”
Midge would have uttered a sharp retort had not Dan given him a nudge in the ribs. He was willing to overlook the snicker, because he’d made up his mind to have no trouble with Ross.
Fortunately, the Pack meetings came only once a month unless Mr. Hatfield called the gang together for something special.
At the regular weekly gatherings of Den 2, everything went smooth as silk because Ross never attended. However, the Cubs of Den 1 reported that their sessions sometimes were a bit rough as a result of the older boy’s desire to boss everyone.
Before Ross could pass another remark, Mr. Hatfield took the floor. Signaling for silence, he said:
“Fellows, I have an interesting announcement to make. I don’t know how this will strike you, but a sporting goods firm—Fielding & Jones Corp.—has offered a substantial prize to the organization putting on the best play.”
“What sort of prize?” demanded Dan quickly.
“A complete archery set. Practice and tournament targets, bows and arrows—everything. All first class equipment.”
“Sounds okay,” nodded Brad. Thirteen years of age, the Den Chief was also a Boy Scout and very dependable for his years.
“How many organizations will compete?” inquired Midge.
“That’s hard to guess,” the Cub leader replied. “I know several church clubs are entering the contest. Now, I thought if the fellows are interested, we might make it a joint Den 1 and Den 2 project.”
“Swell!” approved Chips Davis. “That way, we’ll have a bigger field from which to draw acting talent.”
“Let’s do it!” approved Midge, while the other boys in Den 2 nodded vigorously.
“Suppose we hear from Den 1,” said Mr. Hatfield.
With the exception of Ross Langdon, all the other boys were in favor of joining forces to try to win the prize. Ross remained noncommittal, thinking it over.
“Now that it’s settled we’re to make the play a joint affair, I’m open to suggestions,” Mr. Hatfield resumed. “Any bang-up ideas?”
“Let’s make it an Indian pow-wow!” proposed Ross. “We’ve got a lot of costumes already sewed that we can use.”
Mr. Hatfield nodded and waited for other suggestions.
“An Indian script would be old stuff,” protested Dan. “It’s the first idea that pops into one’s mind. Probably a dozen other organizations will come up with the same thing.”
“Maybe you’ve got a better idea!” Ross scoffed.
“Well, no, I haven’t at the moment,” Dan admitted, and then his gaze rested for a moment on the Robin Hood book. “Yes, I have too!” he announced.
“Let’s hear it, Dan,” invited Mr. Hatfield. “If we’re to win first prize, we need the best idea we can get.”
“Why not build our play around the adventures of Robin Hood?” Dan proposed. “Remember? He was the famous archer who lived with his men in the green glades of Sherwood Forest near Nottingham Town.”
“That was in the time of King Henry the Second, wasn’t it?” Brad asked, taking up with the idea. “The forest setting would be dandy, and we could have green costumes!”
“And throw in a little real archery,” added Fred. “Wasn’t Robin Hood expert at it?”
“The very best,” Dan declared, paraphrasing the book he had just been reading. “‘No archer ever lived that could speed a gray goose shaft with more skill than he.’”
“Who wants to do Robin Hood?” Ross cut in. “An Indian pow-wow would be more fun.”
“Indians are old stuff,” Chips Davis said. “Tell us more about Robin Hood, Dan.”
“That would take some doing, because it’s a long book. I’ll tell you how the story begins though. One day Robin Hood came upon a group of foresters who twitted him about his ability as an archer. Robin Hood won a wager with them by shooting a deer. The foresters were jealous and turned upon him. One of the men shot an arrow at Robin Hood, who returned the shot. Unfortunately, he killed the man, and became an outlaw.”
“Nothing in that idea,” broke in Ross. “I’m in favor of the Indian pow-wow.”
“Oh, peddle your feathers somewhere else,” cut in another member of Den 1. “Dan’s idea sounds good! Tell us some more.”
“Robin Hood always befriended the poor people,” Dan explained. “The book would provide any number of exciting scenes, including a big archery tournament.”
“What characters could we have?” demanded Red Suell.
“The main part would go to Robin Hood. Then we could have the Sheriff of Nottingham, Little John, foresters, the tinker, the king, Eric O’Lincoln, the cook, Allan-a-Dale, the merry friar, and a dozen others.”
“Let’s do it!” urged Brad. “The play would be a lot of fun and give the fellows a chance to practice with bows and arrows.”
Mr. Hatfield brought the proposal to a vote. Ross Langdon was the only Cub who held out for the Indian pow-wow.
“I’m willing to go along on the Robin Hood idea if I can have his part,” he said grudgingly.
“Modest, aren’t you?” Midge twitted him.
“Ross probably has a good reason for wanting the lead part,” said Mr. Hatfield quickly. “How about it, Ross?”
The boy flushed and looked a bit ashamed. “Oh, I don’t want to be Robin Hood just to have the lead part,” he defended himself.
“Then why not settle for one of the foresters?” demanded Red.
“I figure the one who plays Robin Hood should be the best archer in the Pack. Well, that’s me.”
“You are a modest little guy!” Midge snorted. “I bet you can hit the bull’s-eye every time at three paces back!”
“I’m good and you know it!” Ross insisted.
“You’re good and you know it,” Midge growled. “Of all the conceit—”
“Never mind, boys,” said the Cub leader, breaking off what promised to be a lively argument. “We’ll not quarrel about who has this or that part. When the time comes, they’ll be assigned.”
“But don’t you think Robin Hood should be good with a bow and arrow?” Ross demanded. “In the tournament scene, wouldn’t it be something if he couldn’t hit the target?”
“I agree that the part of Robin Hood should be played by the Cub most skilled with a bow and arrow,” Mr. Hatfield said. “We’ll determine that by having a preliminary contest.”
“Suits me,” grinned Ross, pushing back his chair. “I’m the same as Robin Hood right now!”
“Oh, one more surprise,” Mr. Hatfield said, as the boys started to leave their places. “One of the Den Dads, Mr. Holloway, has a moving picture camera. He will make a movie of the play as we work it out.”
“Where will we take the pictures?” Dan asked. “Here at the Cave?”
The room which the Cubs used in summer time for their meeting place was high over the beach, reached by a long flight of stairs. Barely large enough to hold all the boys at one time, it never would provide a suitable background for the Robin Hood play.
“We’ll have to find ourselves a forest primeval to double for Sherwood Forest,” Brad chuckled. “I know just the place too.”
“Where?” demanded Dan.
“Out west of the city near the Haunted Castle.”
“The Haunted Castle!” repeated Midge with keen interest. “Never heard of such a place. How’d it get that name?”
Brad admitted that it was one he had made up. “The forest adjoins an old place that resembles a deserted castle,” he explained. “When last I visited the area, no one lived there.”
“Is it really haunted?” asked Chips.
“Now what do you think?” laughed Brad. “I’ve yet to meet an honest-to-goodness ghost. But if there were any, the Castle would be an ideal home for the old boy.”
“Suppose we investigate the Haunted Castle and the forest,” proposed Mr. Hatfield. “The setting sounds first class to me, if we can get permission to use the grounds. Who owns the place, Brad?”
“I don’t know sir, but I can find out.”
“I wish you would before our next meeting. If we’re aiming to win the prize, we’ll have to get busy on the play right away.”
“I’ll look into the matter today,” Brad promised.
Enthusiastic over the prospect of acting in Robin Hood, the other Cubs urged Mr. Hatfield to call another Pack meeting that coming Saturday.
“I’ll tell you what,” he consented. “Let’s have a hike. How would you like to go out to the Haunted Castle and look over the place? If Ross cares to bring along his archery set, we might get in a little practice.”
“Sure, I’ll fetch the equipment,” Ross offered willingly enough. “You’ll see I wasn’t boasting when I said I can hit the bull’s-eye.”
“We’ll give you a thorough test,” Mr. Hatfield responded dryly.
The hour had come to close the meeting. After singing one of their songs, the Cubs said good-bye to Mr. Hatfield and started off in little groups.
Descending the steps to the beach, Brad and Midge walked with Dan. Just ahead, they could hear Ross complaining to a Den 1 Cub that the Robin Hood idea wasn’t nearly as good as the one he had proposed.
“Oh, forget it,” the other boy advised. “Indians are stale.”
“I suppose the Robin Hood idea is original,” Ross retorted.
Brad, Dan and Midge knew Ross well enough to realize that he was not likely to let the matter drop.
“I have a hunch he’ll make trouble before we’re through,” Brad said in an undertone. “If he gets to be Robin Hood, he may go along. If not—well, he’ll kick up a lot of dust.”
“Let him try,” replied Midge.
“Chances are Ross will win the part fair and square,” Dan said. “We all know that despite his boasting he probably handles a bow and arrow better than anyone in the Pack.”
“If he gets the part, the play is the same as ruined,” Midge predicted.
Brad, however, refused to take such a pessimistic view.
“Maybe Ross won’t win,” he said cheerfully. “It hasn’t been proven yet that he’s the best shot. Wait until Saturday. Once we get to the Haunted Castle he may whistle a different tune.”
