“I didn’t hear any laughter from the woods,” Brad said, gazing thoughtfully toward the fringe of trees beyond the castle. “You’re sure you heard it, Dan?”
“Positive,” the younger boy replied.
“Maybe it was one of the Den 1 Cubs.”
“Everyone was right here watching the filming of the bridge scene. I checked to make certain.”
“Well, I don’t see anyone in the woods,” Brad said. “We might take a look around.”
This proposal appealed to Dan. However, before the two boys could leave the creek, they heard an automobile drive up from the main road.
To the surprise of the Cubs, the car stopped nearby. A stout man in a gray suit alighted and came toward the group.
“It’s one of the bank officials, I’ll bet a cookie!” Brad murmured. “Now what?”
Curious to learn what the stranger wanted, Mr. Holloway and Ross rejoined the group of Cubs. The man approached them, addressing Sam Hatfield.
“Good morning,” he greeted the Cub leader, “I am Grover Kain, sent out by the bank to inspect the grounds here. I see you’re getting in a little archery practice.”
“That’s right,” agreed the Cub leader. “We need a longer archery field though.”
Mr. Kain nodded as his gaze roved over the grounds which had grown up with bushes and were cluttered with brush.
“I trust you’ll be careful about starting fires,” he remarked. “The season is unusually dry and brush presents a hazard. If a fire should start in this area, it would be most difficult to fight it because of the scarcity of water.”
Mr. Hatfield assured him that the Cub Scouts would be careful.
His answer did not entirely satisfy the bank official, who walked about the premises making note of work that needed to be done.
“Someone should call that broken window to his attention,” Dan suggested.
“I’ll do it,” offered Ross. “Having it fixed will spoil a lot of our fun though.”
Mr. Kain spent nearly ten minutes looking over the property and then returned to talk to Mr. Hatfield and Midge’s father.
“I don’t want to put a damper on your good times here,” he said apologetically. “But in looking over the grounds I am more than ever impressed with the fire hazard. Boys don’t mean to cause trouble, but they are careless with matches.”
“Not the Cubs,” spoke up Mr. Hatfield. “They know and practice the rules of safety.”
“So much dry brush is a distinct danger. I dislike to say the Cubs can’t use this property, but—”
“I have an idea,” proposed Mr. Holloway, well aware that the bank official intended to forbid the Cubs from filming their picture on the grounds. “The boys will pitch in and clear out some of the brush.”
Mr. Kain was both pleased and astonished by the offer.
“That would be fine!” he declared. “In that case, we have no objection whatsoever to the property being used.”
The three men discussed what work should be done before Mr. Kain returned to the city.
“Let’s get at it right away,” proposed Brad. “We can map our areas and have each Cub responsible for a certain section.”
“Why doesn’t the bank clean its own rubbish?” Ross growled. “I can’t help because I’ve got to go home and get into dry clothes.”
“I’ll take you,” Mr. Holloway offered again. “We’ll pick up rakes and return by lunch time.”
The proposal rather displeased Ross, who never liked to work. But knowing that the other Cubs would call him a quitter if he made an excuse for not returning to the castle grounds, he scowled and made no reply.
After Mr. Holloway and Ross had driven away, the others marked the area into sections and then set about clearing away the debris.
Loose brush was accumulated in a large bare spot near the road ready for burning. The Cubs worked with a will and by the time Ross and Mr. Holloway came back with garden tools, were fairly well along.
“Ross, your section is that area behind the castle,” Brad gave him his assignment.
“My section? Say, I’m all tired out from archery practice and chasing back and forth. What does that bank guy think we are anyhow? Work horses?”
“We gave our promise to clean up the grounds and we’re going to do it.”
“Well, I’m tired,” Ross said sullenly, flinging himself on the ground. “Besides, it’s almost lunch time.”
“You can clean your section later,” Brad consented. “Just so you get the job done in the next day or so. By the way, you told Mr. Kain about the broken window?”
“No, I didn’t.”
Then, as Brad fixed him with a disapproving gaze, Ross added with a flare of temper: “I didn’t get a chance to do it. I’ll tell him the next time he comes around.”
“Don’t bother,” Brad replied shortly. “I’ll tell him myself when I see him.”
As the sun rose higher, all the Cubs began to look forward to lunch. Unaccustomed to such heavy work, they felt the need of a rest.
“All right, fellows, knock off,” Mr. Hatfield advised them. “You’ve put in a big morning. Rest awhile and then we’ll eat.”
Dan and Brad took advantage of the lull to roam around the castle. Both boys were fascinated by its unusual design and old-world appearance.
“It’s queer about that laughter I heard from the woods,” Dan commented thoughtfully. “We’ve seen no one, and yet I’m sure someone was watching us.”
“Maybe it came from the castle,” Brad suggested, gazing up at the shadowy turrets. “With that window broken, any tramp could get inside.”
“How about taking another look?” Dan proposed. “We’ll have time for a quick search through the house before lunch.”
“Okay,” Brad agreed after a slight hesitation.
Unfastening the window latch, the boys climbed through.
As he straightened up, Dan sniffed the air suspiciously.
“Say, I smell something!” he announced.
Brad also had noticed the odor. “Smoke!” he agreed. “Something’s burning! It’s inside the castle too!”
Thoroughly alarmed, the boys darted from room to room. Running through a butler’s pantry they came to a huge kitchen with row upon row of shelves.
At one end of the room was a fireplace. To the amazement of the boys, a fire had been built there. A few of the larger sticks still smoldered.
“Someone has been in here since we came!” Brad exclaimed.
“Do you suppose one of the Cubs could have built the fire, Brad?”
“The fellows all have been working,” Brad replied, deeply puzzled. “Besides, everyone heard Mr. Kain warn about starting fires.”
Dan had lowered his voice. “This just goes to prove that I was right,” he declared. “I did hear laughter while we were filming the creek scene. Someone was watching us—either from the woods or this castle.”
“The bird still may be here too, Dan. Let’s look around.”
Quietly the boys went from room to room. No one could be found on the lower floor. Yet as they climbed the circular staircase to the second floor, Dan again thought he heard faint laughter from below.
“You imagined it, Dan,” Brad insisted.
“Maybe, but this house has a dozen and one hiding places. It would be easy for anyone to keep out of our way.”
“I wouldn’t want to go through this place at night,” Brad said with a shiver. “It’s spooky enough by daytime. The bank will be smart to get that window fixed and board up the place.”
Decidedly uneasy, the boys tramped from one bed chamber to another. All the rooms were large and at least half of them had fireplaces. They found no further evidence that anyone was in the dwelling.
“Whoever the person was, I think he’s taken himself off by now,” Brad said finally. By this time they had examined every room, including the circular towers at each corner of the building.
“I guess so,” Dan agreed in relief. “Let’s go back to the kitchen.”
There, the two boys carefully stamped out the dying embers of the fire.
Then, after again inspecting the lower floor, they let themselves out through the window.
“I hope to see Mr. Kain tomorrow,” Brad said as he walked back toward the archery range. “That broken window should be repaired.”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday,” Dan reminded him.
“That’s so. Well, I’ll make a point of seeing him Monday then. The window has been broken for a long while, so I suppose another day won’t matter too much.”
The Cubs had spread out their lunch at the base of a large elm tree. Brad and Dan joined the group and began to eat their sandwiches. As usual, the conversation reverted to the archery competition.
“If the Pack expects to win a prize for having the best play, it means we’ve got to dig in and work,” Mr. Hatfield warned the Cubs. “Our acting is rough, and a lot of detail has to be worked out.”
“Not to mention our archery,” added Brad with a laugh. “We can stand plenty of target practice!”
The Cubs finished lunch, rested for a half hour, and then voted to return to the archery range.
“Dan, you have a chance to win the part of Robin Hood,” Midge encouraged his friend. “Why don’t you get to work and show Ross Langdon you can beat him a mile!”
“Easier said than done. He is good and we both know it.”
“Sure,” Midge admitted grudgingly. “But don’t forget he’s lazy. He’s so certain of winning the part, I’ll bet he doesn’t do much practicing.”
“I’d like the part,” Dan said. “I intend to work hard to improve my shooting. All the same, I haven’t much hope.”
The two Cubs were the first to reach the archery range and so had their choice of bows.
Dan shot first, placing four of his arrows within the black of the target. Only two struck the outer rim.
“You’re getting more accurate every time, Dan!” Midge approved, stepping up to take his turn.
Three of his arrows missed the target completely. He shot the next three more carefully, managing to get them on the rim.
“Friar Tuck would blush with shame if he could see me,” Midge laughed ruefully. “Wow! Am I lousy!”
The two boys trotted down to the target to retrieve their arrows.
Midge glanced at the very center of the target face and gasped in astonishment.
“Dan, you made a bull’s-eye! Your shaft went right to the heart of it!”
“What?” Dan demanded. “Impossible!”
“Well, look at the arrow!”
Dan saw for himself that an arrow had pierced the target padding at its very center. The shot was a perfect one.
“Midge, that couldn’t have been my shot.”
“Well, it certainly wasn’t mine.”
Dan had examined the arrow carefully after removing it from the target.
“Neither of us shot it,” he announced. “See, it’s larger than those we used.”
“The shaft is longer,” Midge agreed in awe. “Also, we shot six arrows apiece.”
“Nine should be in the target, Midge. Instead, there were ten.”
“But who shot the tenth one?”
Dan had no answer for the question. “It must have been there when we started shooting,” he said slowly. “Probably we didn’t notice.”
“Maybe it’s one of Mr. Holloway’s arrows. Or worse luck—from Ross’ bow.”
“Could be,” Dan agreed as they picked up their arrows and left the range. “All the same, I wonder—”
His gaze roved toward the surrounding woods.
“You wonder what, Dan?”
“I don’t believe that arrow was shot by any of the Cubs or Mr. Holloway either,” he announced with sudden conviction.
Midge stared at him in amazement.
“Who else could have shot it, Dan?”
“Well, I don’t know,” the other boy admitted lamely. He was reluctant to tell Midge about the fire inside the castle until after he had talked with Mr. Hatfield.
“You’re keeping something to yourself,” Midge accused.
“I’m not sure of a thing,” Dan replied, moving off in search of the Cub leader. “I wish though that we could find the person who shot that arrow! He’s a natural for the role of Robin Hood!”