CHAPTER 15 A Hint from Jack

Mr. Hatfield did not fail to note the rifle, which he knew had been taken from Mrs. Jones’ home. Undoubtedly it was loaded, he reasoned. If Jack were disposed to make trouble, he easily could do so.

Saying nothing to the Cubs of his misgivings, the Cub leader stepped boldly into the clearing.

Hearing the crackle of a stick, Jack whirled around.

Instinctively, he reached for the rifle. Then, recognizing Mr. Hatfield, he merely allowed his hand to rest on the butt. His attitude however, was wary.

“How are you, Jack?” the Cub leader greeted him. “A nice little camp you have here. Did you shoot the rabbit yourself?”

“Who else?” Jack retorted a trifle defiantly.

“You did a good job of cleaning it too,” the Cub leader praised him. “I can see you’re handy and know how to get along.”

Jack made no reply. Guardedly he eyed the Cubs, who gradually had circled in around the camp fire.

“No biscuits?” demanded Red, scanning every inch of the camp.

“I never learned how to bake ’em,” Jack admitted, relaxing a bit. “You have to have an oven for that.”

“A reflector oven isn’t hard to make,” Mr. Hatfield said. “Any of the Cubs could teach you.”

“They could?” Jack gazed at the boys with new respect. “I’d sure like to learn.”

“You come with us on our next hike, and we’ll show you,” Mr. Hatfield promised.

“But I’m not a Cub.”

“That makes no difference. Glad to have you.” Jack’s face lighted up, and then the old look of frustration returned.

“Thanks,” he said, “but I can’t make it. The Widow wouldn’t let me go. She keeps me chop, chop, chopping wood night and day.”

“You seem to be enjoying yourself now,” Brad remarked significantly.

Jack stirred the coals and replied: “Oh, I ran off. She’ll switch me when I get back. It only tickles though.”

Mr. Hatfield squatted by the fire and said in a friendly way: “How are things working out, Jack? You don’t much like it at the Widow’s place?”

“Oh, she’s okay, I guess,” the boy admitted grudgingly.

“She makes you work too hard?”

“I have to chop a lot of wood. I hate that. The other work isn’t so bad.”

“Mrs. Jones doesn’t have much money or any man to help her about the place. Jack, she really needs you.”

“I guess so,” the boy admitted uncomfortably. “I’ve been trying to please her. It’s just—well, I can’t stand being cooped up in the house all the time. Every so often I have to get away or I’ll pop wide open!”

“I understand,” the Cub leader said. “Had that feeling myself when I was a boy. I never gave way to the urge too much, and I made a point never to take anything that didn’t belong to me.”

Jack rocked back on his heels, regarding the Cub leader with hostility.

“What do you mean by that crack?”

“Didn’t you swipe our biscuits?” Red demanded before Mr. Hatfield could speak.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Someone took them from our camp,” Red went on, ignoring Mr. Hatfield’s warning glance. “If you didn’t swipe ’em—”

“Well, I didn’t and you better not accuse me! I’ve been right here for the last forty minutes.”

“You’re using Mrs. Jones’ rifle!” Red accused, refusing to be checked.

“Why not? She never touched it. A rifle was meant to be used not left to rust.”

“Mrs. Jones thinks you’ve been taking things from her.”

“That’s a black lie!”

“Cord wood for instance.”

“What would I steal wood for, when I have to keep chopping more to replace it?” Jack shouted furiously. “Use your head, or haven’t you got one?”

At this point, Mr. Hatfield warned Red to drop the argument.

“Sorry,” the boy mumbled.

Jack however, was not willing to allow the matter to pass.

“What else did Mrs. Jones say I took?” he demanded.

“I don’t recall that she accused you,” Mr. Hatfield answered. “She merely was disturbed because of the wood and a few other trifles.”

“Someone else had been taking that wood. What else did she say was missing?”

“A black dress,” Dan answered. “One with jet buttons.”

“Of course we don’t think you’d have any use for a woman’s dress,” Dan went on, watching the boy intently.

Jack made no reply. After a long while, he said:

“I didn’t take that dress. If I were a mind to though, I could tell you something about it!”

“Suppose you do just that,” Mr. Hatfield encouraged him.

Jack smiled in a superior, insolent way. The wave of friendliness which he briefly had displayed, now was entirely gone. Once more he seemed the arrogant, defiant runaway.

“Why should I tell you anything?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do, Jack. We have a particular reason for being interested in what became of that black silk dress.”

“You’ve accused me of being a thief.”

“No, Jack. The Cubs were a bit abrupt perhaps. They believe in being square and honest. Naturally it made them sore to think you might have taken the biscuits.”

“I told you, I don’t know nothin’ about ’em!”

“And we accept your word, Jack.”

“Then you said I took wood and the Widow’s black dress.”

“No, Jack, we merely were telling you what she said. Unfortunately, when one has a past record, it’s apt to plague one unjustly.”

“Sure, I’m a bad kid! I know!” Jack said, his eyes flashing. “Okay! Send me to an industrial school! But try to keep me there! I’ll run away a thousand times!”

“You’re talking wildly now, Jack. No one wants to send you away. Quite the opposite. Mrs. Jones likes you. She’s willing to overlook a lot to keep you with her.”

“She’s been pretty decent to me,” Jack admitted, softening again. “I did take food out of the ice box without asking her. Not very much though. Just enough so I could get along out here in the woods.”

“She’s worried about you now, Jack. She asked me to send you home, if I saw you.”

“Oh, I’ll go,” Jack sighed. “I’d intended to anyhow as soon as this rabbit finishes cooking. It’s done now, I guess.”

The boy removed the rabbit from the spit, and salted it, using a shaker which the Cubs were certain had come from Mrs. Jones’ home.

“Have some?” he invited the Cubs.

They declined.

“Well, I’m hungry,” Jack announced.

Dismembering the rabbit, he gnawed at the tough meat. Now and then as he ate, he glanced at the Cubs.

Having finished his meal, he put out the fire and cleaned away the debris. The Cubs noted that he was efficient at it, leaving not a spark which could set off a forest fire.

“I’ll go back to Mrs. Jones’ place now and chop more wood,” Jack said finally, picking up the rifle. “I’ll chop and chop until my hands bleed!”

“I hardly think Mrs. Jones will require that,” Mr. Hatfield said, smiling. “By the way, Jack, who do you figure may be taking that wood?”

The boy gave him a quick, knowing look.

“I don’t stay up nights watching!”

“But you have a fairly good idea where it is going?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Jack, if you wanted to cooperate, you could be very helpful.”

“I mind my own business. That’s more than I can say about some folks.”

His resentment returning, Jack glared at the Cubs.

“You guys think you’re so smart and know so much about camping out and the like!” he scoffed. “Why, you’re babes in the woods! If you weren’t so dumb, you wouldn’t have to ask so many stupid questions. You’d see for yourselves what’s going on around here.”

“Why, you conceited—” Red began, but Dan checked him with a hard kick in the ankle.

“Maybe we are sort of dumb,” Brad said, falling in with Jack’s mood. “You’re probably right, we don’t know what’s going on around here. That’s because we’re not on the scene much of the time. You’re roaming the woods and the marsh every day. I suppose you’ve seen things we haven’t.”

“You’re darn right I have,” Jack boasted. “I could tell you something about that black dress, if I had a mind to! What’s more, I could tell you about the money box—”

The boy broke off, suddenly aware that he was talking entirely too much.

“What about the money box?” Mr. Hatfield asked quietly.

Jack, however, started off through the woods.

“Wait!” Dan called after him.

Jack turned around, but his eyes were unfriendly and defiant.

“You won’t get anything out of me!” he taunted the Cubs. “I could tell you a lot if I wanted to. But I won’t! I’m not forgetting that it was the Cubs who took me back to the Child Study Institute!”