On the day set for the presentation of the Cubs’ Robin Hood play, the boys of Dens 1 and 2 arrived early at the Castle grounds.
The weather had favored them. A rain the previous day had settled the dust and the air was pleasantly cool.
“Everything’s perfect,” Brad declared in satisfaction. “Now if we don’t muff our lines, we’re all set.”
“I don’t know,” Dan replied, none too confident. “I almost wish we had adopted Ross’ idea and put on an Indian pow wow instead of such an elaborate presentation.”
“Don’t you think it!” the Den Chief replied. “Just as Mr. Hatfield said, Indian shows are a dime a dozen.”
“That one the Hi-Y Club put on was good though, Brad. We have real competition.”
The previous night the Cubs had witnessed the Indian skit presented by another competitor for the grand prize. As Dan remarked, it had been very good indeed.
Ten organizations finally had entered the contests. Six of the performances had been of mediocre caliber. The other three, however, definitely were in the running for the prize.
“Don’t forget, the last things usually are best,” Brad encouraged his friend. “We’ve worked hard and we should win.”
“We should, but will we?” Dan countered. “The shooting match is our big scene. If I should get nervous and miss the target—that would ruin everything.”
“You won’t be nervous, Dan,” Brad said. “Quit your worrying. Now let’s get into our costumes. The crowd soon will arrive.”
For the occasion, the bank had opened the Castle to visitors. One room had been set aside as the Cubs’ dressing quarters. Here all of the Cubs had gathered.
“At any rate, we have top-notch costumes,” Midge declared in satisfaction as he scrambled into his tight-fitting suit of green. “Thanks to Mr. Brekenridge and the bank officials!”
The room buzzed with conversation. Red could not find his cap with the yellow feather. Chips, certain that he would forget his lines, kept mumbling them over and over. Everyone talked at once, and no one listened. Of the group, Billy Brekenridge appeared the most calm.
“I wish I had your confidence,” Dan told him enviously.
“Oh, I don’t need any,” the boy laughed. “My part is small, at the very end. I know I can shoot Robin Hood’s last arrow straight and true.”
“Wish I could be as sure of myself,” Dan sighed.
“Just relax and don’t think about the crowd,” Billy advised him. “You’ve improved a lot in practice this last week. You’ll do fine.”
The crowd soon began to arrive, everyone seating themselves on the grass near the Castle. Presently, Mr. Hatfield brought word that the judges had appeared.
“I have news for you,” he told the Cubs. “The judges may announce the winner of the contest at conclusion of our performance. All the other plays have been given, you know. Ours is the last one to be graded.”
“I hope they award us something for effort,” Chips said grimly.
Mr. Hatfield explained that the grading would be according to strict rules. A certain number of points were to be allowed for originality of material, a certain number for costumes, stage direction, acting ability, and general effectiveness.
By two o’clock, the hour set for the start of the play, a large throng had gathered on the Castle grounds.
The Cubs were amazed to see Colonel Brekenridge in the audience. He sat in the shade in his wheel chair, accompanied by his nurse.
At last came the moment of starting. Four trumpeters announced the opening with blasts from their instruments.
Although all scenes had been taken many times, Mr. Holloway had posted himself at an advantageous position to make a final filming of the play. It was planned that the picture later would be offered to other organizations for showings.
The play began with the prologue in which Robin Hood encountered Little John at the bridge.
Their sprightly duel evoked much laughter from the crowd and went off without a single mistake.
“Even the judges were laughing,” Brad whispered to Fred. “We’re doing all right so far.”
As the play unfolded, the audience learned that a reward of two hundred pounds had been offered for Robin Hood’s head, and that the Sheriff of Nottingham had sworn he himself would seize the outlaw.
The Cubs were uncertain how Ross Langdon would act his role. During practice he had alternately sulked or clowned.
As it developed, the doubts proved needless. Ross was as determined as the other Cubs to win honors for the Pack. He spoke his lines carefully, and his blustering manner exactly fitted the role.
Finally, came the vital scene of the play, the shooting match at Nottingham Town.
When Dan’s turn came to shoot, he could feel his heart hammering against his ribs. The other archers in the scene had shot their arrows flying into the target.
And, as luck would have it, two of the shots had been especially good. To uphold the role of Robin Hood, he must beat both of them.
“Gosh! Do your best, Dan,” Midge whispered to his friend. “I didn’t mean to put an arrow in the gold. It slipped away from me!”
Dan dared not look too long at the target. Drawing the bow, he loosed the string.
For a moment he stood motionless, his eye fixed upon his point of aim. He was afraid to hope. If the arrow failed to beat the other two—the match was a farce!
Then a shout went up and the audience began to clap.
The arrow had flown straight and true, lodging inside of the other two, and clipping a bit of feather from the one Midge had shot.
“Bravo!” shouted Midge. “A beautiful shot!”
The play moved on swiftly now to the epilogue.
In this final scene only Billy Brekenridge and Brad appeared, the latter acting his role of Little John.
Billy had been made up to look very old. Propped on pillows, he reclined just inside the Castle, but visible to the audience.
As the camera began to grind, Brad as Little John opened wide the windows.
An amplifier carried Robin Hood’s final words to the audience. Speaking with a great deal of feeling, Billy instructed Little John to make his last resting place the spot where his arrow fell.
Then, raising himself upright, he drew the bowstring. Out through the open window sped the arrow. A perfect shot, it fell in a green bower directly in view of the judges.
A blast from the trumpets signalled the end of the performance.
“That was swell, Billy!” Brad cried, grasping his hand. “Your shot couldn’t have been better!”
“Where that arrow fell we’ll place our target for the archery range,” Billy said dreamily. “I’ve got it all planned.”
Brad was too excited at the moment by the success of the play to wonder what the boy meant.
Parents poured around the Cubs, congratulating them upon their fine acting.
Though pleased that it was over, the Cubs were none too confident of victory. The judges, they noticed, had gone into a huddle. Apparently, they were in disagreement, for they seemed to be arguing rather heatedly.
“No soap,” Chips muttered hopelessly. “I stumbled over my lines in one place. I’m sure that prejudiced one judge. I saw him looking hard at me.”
Ten minutes elapsed. Then word came that the judges were ready to announce their decision. George Hutton, as spokesman for the group, stepped out in front of the expectant audience.
“The task of choosing the best play from among ten entries has been most difficult,” he began. “All have had exceeding merit. In the unanimous opinion of the judges, however, one presentation has been outstanding in every respect.”
“Which one?” whispered Midge impatiently. “Can’t he ever get to the point?”
“First prize is awarded to the Cub Scouts for their play ‘Robin Hood,’” Mr. Hutton announced. “From start to finish, the presentation was a finished production.”
After that, there was no containing the pride of the Cubs. As they talked gleefully of their success, however, they gave full credit to Mr. Hatfield, Midge’s father, and to Brad and Dan who had contributed so heavily of their time.
Now that the winner had been announced, the crowd began to leave. Mr. Holloway called the boys together to thank them for their splendid effort and to tell them that already he had received many requests to show the Robin Hood film.
“Just think!” Fred said jubilantly. “Now that we’ve won the prize, we’ll have a complete archery set! Bows and arrows for everyone and targets! We’ll have a chance to really become experts.”
“We’ll need an archery range though,” Red pointed out. “Now that our play is finished, we can’t expect the bank to allow us to keep on using these grounds.”
“That’s so,” Fred admitted, a trifle crestfallen. “Well, at any rate, we’ll have Billy here to teach us how to shoot.”
“Speaking of Billy reminds me of an important matter,” remarked Mr. Hatfield, who had overheard the conversation. “Officially, he isn’t a Cub yet.”
“Why don’t we initiate him?” demanded Chips.
“Soon, too,” chimed in Dan. “We need Billy.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” agreed the Cub leader. “Colonel Brekenridge is here now with his nurse. He may never be able to come to one of our meetings—”
“He’d like to see Billy taken into the organization!” Brad exclaimed. “Why not induct him right now?”
All the other Cubs favored the plan. Gathering the boys in a circle, Mr. Hatfield briefly explained the ideals and goals of the organization.
“A real Cub is square,” he told Billy. “Also he is reliable and loyal. He sticks by his friends. A Cub prides himself upon being fair to others. Last but far from least, he always tries to be cheerful.”
The Cub leader then explained further that the five ideals, SQUARE, LOYAL, FAIR, HAPPY and GAME, were represented by the five fingers of the Cub’s left hand.
Billy then was asked to repeat the Cub Promise:
“I, Billy Brekenridge, promise to do my best, to be square and to obey the law of the Cub Pack.”
All of the Cubs of Dens 1 and 2 repeated the Law of the Pack:
The Cub Follows Akela.
The Cub Helps the Pack Go.
The Pack Helps the Cub Grow.
The Cub Gives Good Will.
The boys showed Billy the official handclasp and how to make the Cub sign with the two first fingers of the right hand.
“You’re a full fledged Bobcat now!” Brad told him when the ceremony had been completed. “Work hard and you’ll soon be a Wolf.”
“And after that a Bear and a Lion!” laughed Ross Langdon. “It’s hard going though.”
Colonel Brekenridge, who had witnessed the ceremony, asked his nurse to wheel him to the group.
Congratulating his grandson upon his entry into the Cub organization, he then cordially invited the boys to come to his estate whenever they felt the urge.
“I don’t expect to be living there long though,” he added. “The place has been none too satisfactory.”
This information rather dashed the expectation of the Cubs.
“You’re not moving away from Webster City, Colonel Brekenridge?” Dan questioned. “We’d hate to lose Billy right after taking him into the Den.”
“Oh, no,” the colonel reassured the boys. “I expect to make my home here. I have bought a place of my own.”
“In this section of the city, I hope,” Brad said politely.
“Very much so.” Colonel Brekenridge smiled at the boys, and added casually, “In fact, you’re standing on my property now.”
The Cubs were dumbfounded.
“You mean you’ve bought the Castle?” Dan demanded.
“The deal with the bank was completed yesterday. I expect to finish the house as the designer originally planned it. The grounds will be cleared and replanted with shrubs and flowers.”
“Say, that’s great!” Chips declared, and all the boys nodded agreement.
“You’ll be welcome here at any time,” the colonel continued. “For that matter, to make certain you’ll come, I may offer a few inducements.”
“Picnic tables,” suggested Billy eagerly. “Outdoor grills and fireplaces.”
“By all means,” agreed his grandfather. “We’ll cut the brush from the woods and make interesting trails.”
“The Cubs can help with that work,” volunteered Dan.
Colonel Brekenridge smiled at his willingness.
“The Cubs have done their share of brush cutting,” he said. “I want this place to represent sheer fun for the boys.”
“Say, we’re going to like that!” laughed Midge.
“I guess SO!” chuckled Red.
“The Cubs need an archery range,” suggested Billy.
“I intended to ask about that,” said his grandfather. “Billy, fetch a bow and arrow.”
The boy ran to do his bidding. When he returned with it, the colonel placed the bow in Dan’s hands.
“Now, Robin Hood, you must shoot this arrow with care,” he advised. “For wherever it falls, there shall be the Cubs’ future archery range.”
“I know exactly the stretch we need!” declared Dan. “If only I don’t miss my aim.”
As the other Cubs gathered about him, the boy raised his bow and took careful aim.
Away sped the arrow, straight and true to fall to earth exactly at the spot he had planned.
“There lies our future archery range,” he said, smiling at Billy. “Here’s to our success!”
“And here’s to the best marksman,” added Brad. “The Bobcat who taught us the tricks of Robin Hood’s trade!”