Led by Ross and Mr. Hatfield, the Cubs rapidly combed the woods in the immediate vicinity of the Castle.
The boy had completely vanished.
“We’re wasting time searching for him among the trees,” Dan offered his opinion. “I have a hunch he went straight down the road, maybe to the Brekenridge estate.”
“I think so too,” Ross supported the opinion. “I heard him running as if he expected to be followed.”
The Cubs set off at a fast pace through the burned area. Mr. Kain, in poor physical trim, found it difficult to keep pace.
“Incidentally, here is where the fire started,” Dan pointed out to the banker as they passed the remains of the small bonfire where the weiner had been roasted.
“Why, this isn’t on bank property,” Mr. Kain noted. “Possibly I have been unjust in blaming the Cubs.”
The boys reached the end of the road without seeing anyone.
Disappointed, they halted at the edge of the Brekenridge estate.
“The boy may have taken off in any direction from here,” Mr. Kain said doubtfully. “Who lives at that house with the pillars?”
“I believe the place is rented by a Colonel Brekenridge,” Mr. Holloway supplied. “I’ve never met him.”
“Any children?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
Through the trees the Cubs could see someone seated on the veranda.
“That may be Mr. Brekenridge,” the bank man commented. “Let’s ask him if he’s seen anyone pass this way in the last ten or fifteen minutes.”
“We may not get a chance to talk to the estate owner,” Dan hinted. “The gardener there doesn’t care for visitors.”
Not to be deterred by this warning, the men pushed on, followed by the Cubs.
Scarcely had they started up the lane from the entrance gate than a dog began to bark.
“We’ll be announced all right,” Brad said. “This place is well guarded.”
As the Cubs expected, the barking of the dog brought the gardener to see what was amiss.
Immediately he recognized Dan and Brad, who walked somewhat in advance of the others in the group.
“I thought I told you to stay away from here,” he said angrily.
“It’s important that we see Mr. Brekenridge,” Brad insisted.
“Well, you can’t talk to him and that’s final,” the man snapped.
By this time the others in the group had come up. Seeing such a large delegation, the gardener did not know what to make of it. Nevertheless, he was determined that his authority should not be questioned.
“We should like to see the master of this estate,” requested Mr. Hatfield politely.
“Mr. Brekenridge’s orders are to keep everyone off the estate.”
“Why is that?”
“Because he likes privacy, the colonel does. Now move along and don’t be making me any more trouble.”
Some distance away an elderly man could be seen reclining on a porch chair. Mr. Hatfield was convinced that it must be Mr. Brekenridge himself.
“Will you please tell the colonel that visitors are here?” the Cub leader requested. “After all, we would not insist upon seeing him but the matter is important.”
“If it’s a business matter, you can tell me. I’ll report to Mr. Brekenridge.”
“What we have to say is for the colonel’s ears alone.”
“Well, the colonel’s ears ain’t going to hear it!” the gardener retorted. “I’m in charge here and I say you’re not to bother the master. He’s not well enough to talk to anyone.”
“In that case, we’ll not press the matter,” Mr. Hatfield accepted dismissal. “However, since Colonel Brekenridge is up and about, I thought—”
“Visitors worry him,” the gardener cut in. “I ain’t aiming to be unfriendly, but my orders are to see he’s not disturbed.”
“We’ll go,” the Cub leader said. “But first, tell us if you’ve seen a boy pass this way in the last ten minutes.”
“I’ve been trimming a hedge. I ain’t had time to be looking for anyone.”
“I see,” said Mr. Hatfield, aware that the man would give no information. “Thank you.”
All the Cubs started to leave. As they moved away, they heard a faint call from the veranda.
“Oh, Pete!”
The gardener became somewhat confused upon seeing that Colonel Brekenridge was beckoning to him.
“Tell those folks to come here,” the master of the estate called.
“You heard him,” the gardener muttered, annoyed that Colonel Brekenridge had interfered. “He’s willing to see you. Why, I wouldn’t know, after telling me to keep folks away.”
The Cubs and the three men went on to the pillared veranda.
Colonel Brekenridge, once a large man now wasted to a shadow of his former self, lay in a specially built reclining wheel chair. He wore glasses and had been reading, for several English magazines and The Spectator were spread on a table beside him.
“You were sending these people away, Pete?” the master of the estate asked the gardener. “Did I not hear them ask to see me?”
“You know you’re not to over-tire yourself, Colonel Brekenridge,” the man replied. “I was only trying to look after your best interests.”
“I’m sure you were,” the colonel replied kindly. “Sometimes I fear you are inclined to be over-zealous in your duty. At any rate, I am feeling much better these days and welcome interesting visitors.”
“I trust we’ll prove interesting then,” said Mr. Hatfield with a smile. “In any case we will endeavor to be brief.”
Colonel Brekenridge waved the three men into porch chairs. The Cubs sat on the steps in front of them.
“I’m not as much of an invalid as my gardener would have you believe,” the colonel said with a smile. “When I first came here to live, I was seriously ill and required absolute quiet. Now, I’m happy to say, I appear well on the road to recovery.”
The three men introduced themselves and presented the Cubs. Mr. Hatfield then explained that the boys had been using the adjoining property in rehearsing for a play which they hoped soon to put on.
“You had a fire over there the other day, didn’t you?” the colonel inquired. “I saw smoke and was a little worried lest this property be in danger. Fortunately for my interests, the wind carried it in the other direction.”
“We’re still trying to learn how that fire started,” Mr. Hatfield said. “That is not our reason for coming here today though. We’re searching for someone who hid a small bag inside the Castle, and then ran off in this direction.”
“We thought you might have seen him come this way,” Mr. Kain added.
“No, I can’t say I have. I must admit I dozed off for fifteen or twenty minutes.”
The Cubs now felt that they were at a complete dead-end in their search for the elusive archer. Believing that Colonel Brekenridge was unable to provide any useful clues, they arose to leave.
At this point, however, Mr. Kain brought out the small leather bag.
Even before the bank employee explained anything about it, the colonel’s eyes fastened attentively upon the pouch.
“That little bag has a familiar look,” he remarked.
“It isn’t yours by chance?” inquired Mr. Kain in surprise.
“Those symbols remind me of a bag I once owned. May I see it please?”
“Certainly.” Mr. Kain offered the coin-filled leather pouch.
“This certainly looks like a bag I once bought from an Indian on one of my trips through the west,” Colonel Brekenridge said. “Come to think of it, I don’t know what ever became of it either.”
“You are a coin collector perhaps?” interposed Mr. Holloway.
“No, I have no hobbies. In my younger days I enjoyed travel and picked up a few curios. But in no sense of the word could you call me a collector.”
Curiously, Colonel Brekenridge felt of the coins inside the bag. Mr. Kain bade him open the pouch.
The colonel poured the coins out onto the robe which covered his wheel chair.
“Well!” he exclaimed. “These too have a somewhat familiar appearance.”
“Then the coins are yours?” asked Mr. Kain.
“No, but I think I recognize them. They belonged to my son.”
“Is the boy here now?”
Colonel Brekenridge smiled as he moved his wheel chair so that the sun would not shine directly into his eyes.
“Oh, my son is a grown man,” he replied. “At present he is abroad serving in the army.”
“This puzzle grows more confusing by the minute,” declared Mr. Holloway. “Suppose we tell you exactly how we came into possession of the bag of coins.”
The Den Dad then related how the arrow with a message attached had been shot near Mr. Kain’s car.
Colonel Brekenridge’s amazement increased as he learned that the bag had been hidden inside the chimney of the bank-owned dwelling.
“These coins are very valuable,” he assured the Cubs. “I am certain it was never my intention to give them away. As I said, they belonged to my son.”
“Can you explain how the bag came to be in the hiding place?” Dan questioned.
“When last I saw that bag it was reposing in a drawer of a desk upstairs,” Colonel Brekenridge replied. “But I might have a theory—yes, it amounts practically to a conviction.”
The invalid winked at the gardener. “We do have an archer in our family, I believe?”
“Aye, that we do,” the man admitted with a heavy sigh. “Many a time he’s nearly winged me with his arrows.”
Colonel Brekenridge requested the gardener to call his nurse.
A rustle of stiffly starched white uniform heralded her arrival a moment later. The young woman bore a glass of milk and two tablets on a tray.
“Oh, you have visitors, Colonel,” she observed somewhat disapprovingly. “Aren’t you afraid of over-exerting yourself?”
“Not in the least,” he rumbled. “Never felt better. I suspect I’ve been dying of boredom these last few months. What I need is more visitors.”
“Colonel, it is time for your medicine.”
“Medicine, be hanged! I’m sick of those ghastly concoctions the doctor has been forcing down me. And no more of that wretched milk!”
“You are feeling better, Colonel! Such spirit!”
“I’m deep in a mystery,” the colonel smiled. “With your help though, I think we may be able to solve it. Miss Aldringham, will you find my grandson, Billy, and send him here?”
“I’ll do my best, Colonel. That boy has a way of disappearing for hours at a time.”
During the absence of the nurse, Colonel Brekenridge told the Cubs a little about himself. He said he had rented the house six months earlier, but had not been too pleased with the quarters.
“For one thing, my grandson has had no playmates,” he explained. “The boy came to me three months ago from England.”
At Dan’s look of surprise, the colonel explained that Billy was an American by birth. He had spent many years in England and other foreign countries however, in company with his father.
“Billy hasn’t been very happy here,” he remarked sadly. “He’s a live wire and hasn’t had enough to do. Then I must admit I’ve been so ill I’ve scarcely concerned myself with his social needs.”
Miss Aldringham returned to the porch to report that she could not find Billy anywhere.
“His room is empty,” she said. “I couldn’t find him on the grounds either.”
“Drat that boy!” the colonel exclaimed. “Sometimes it seems to me he deliberately hides out! Since he’s been up to mischief, he probably figures he’ll be punished.”
The Cubs might not have learned the answer to their many questions for days to come. At that moment, however, Dan’s alert gaze chanced to rove toward a clump of bushes behind the veranda.
The Cub was startled to catch a glimpse of a touseled brown head of hair. A pair of blue eyes gazed squarely into his own from amid the foliage.
Then the face was gone.
“I saw someone in that rhododendron bush just then!” he exclaimed.
“Nail him!” commanded the colonel.
Dan and the gardener both made a dive for the bush.
They emerged with a small boy in tow. Not more than eleven years of age, he wore English cut trousers which he had rolled to the knees. His freckled, deeply tanned face was smeared with dirt.
“Well, Billy, I guess you knew you were wanted,” the colonel said severely. “Hiding out, weren’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” replied the boy.
His curious gaze moved from one Cub Scout to another and finally came to rest on the leather pouch which his grandfather held.
“Billy, you have a few matters to explain, I believe.”
The boy grinned at his grandfather.
“Oh, sure,” he admitted, undisturbed. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know—only first you have to promise not to punish me.”
“You’ll drive no bargain with me, young man. Sit down!”
“Yes, sir,” Billy gulped, collapsing on the steps.
“Before we delve into other matters, there is one question I will ask,” said the colonel severely. “Did you or did you not have anything to do with starting a fire at the Castle?”