CHAPTER 2 The Metal Box

Stooping low, Dan lifted the metal box from the shovel. It was surprisingly heavy.

The boy tugged at the lid, but it stubbornly resisted his efforts.

From the furnace room, the waiting Brad now called impatiently:

“Hey, slow poke! Hurry up with that coal, will you? You’ve been in that bin a couple of hours!”

Dan emerged into the light. His hands were smeared with coal dust. So was his blue Cub Scout uniform. A long black smudge lay across his cheek.

“Say, what you been doing in there?” Brad demanded, staring at him. “If you aren’t a sight!”

Dan ignored the gibe. Grinning triumphantly, he thrust the metal box into the astonished Brad’s hand.

“Look at this,” he directed. “What d’you say? Did I waste my time in that coal bin?”

Brad stared at the box and then shook it hard.

“You found this under the coal?” he demanded almost in disbelief.

“You catch on fast,” Dan grinned. “I found it under the coal.”

“Well, what are we waiting for? Why don’t we open it?”

“Go ahead,” Dan encouraged.

Brad pried at the lid but could not raise it.

“Stuck,” he observed. “At least the box doesn’t seem to be locked.”

Determined to open it, Brad rapped one corner of the lid against the hard cement floor.

The cover flew back so suddenly that an object tumbled out.

Brad and Dan stared. At their feet lay a package of bank notes, neatly held together with a rubber band.

“Money!” Dan exclaimed. “Twenty dollar notes! Must be counterfeit.”

“Gosh, it looks genuine enough,” Brad muttered, equally dumbfounded. “And look at the rest of ’em here in the box!”

The boys counted ten stacks of paper money. Some were in fives and tens, but a larger portion was in twenty dollar bills with at least a few fifties.

“Say, there must be a couple thousand here,” Brad said, making a rough estimate. “Maybe more. Where’d you say you found it?”

Dan showed him the place in the coal bin. “How d’you suppose it got here?” he demanded.

“That’s what I’d like to know. Someone must have hidden it here.”

“Sure, but who would leave a pile of money kicking around loose? Anyone who would risk it must be crazy.”

“I’ll bet a cookie someone hid it here in the empty bin—”

“The bin isn’t empty.”

“Of course it isn’t now,” Brad said impatiently. “But you remember the church has been closed. Coal probably was loaded in here only a day or so ago. It was heaved in through the chute and no one saw the box.”

“Your theory is as good as any,” Dan admitted. “Anyway, we’re rich.”

Brad gave a snort of disgust. “Rich, my eye! You’re not such a dum bunny as to think we can keep this money?”

“But if no one should claim it—”

“It will be claimed fast enough. In any case, we’re not getting ourselves mixed up in anything. We turn this box over to Mr. Hatfield—right now.”

“Sure, I guess you’re right,” Dan admitted. “I intended to show it to him. Only I thought if no one claimed the box, the money might go into the Cub’s treasury or maybe the church building fund.”

“That’s an idea,” nodded Brad. “But let’s not count any chickens—or rather, cash! I have a hunch whoever planted this money here won’t forget about it!”

Excited over their discovery, the two boys hastily tossed another shovelful of coal on the fire.

Then, carrying the precious metal box, they took the stairway two steps at a time.

As they burst into the Cub meeting, Mr. Hatfield was explaining the different types of armor used by knights in early days.

“One type was made of steel mesh”—the Cub leader said, and his voice trailed off.

“Excuse us, sir,” Brad apologized. “Dan found this box in the basement. It’s full of money!”

The Cubs would have suspected the two boys of playing a practical joke. However, Brad floored them by plumping the box itself on the table.

He jerked back the lid, revealing the packages of money.

“Ye gads!” shrieked Red. “Is it real?”

“Where’d you find it?” demanded Midge, fingering one of the fat packages. “Inside the furnace?”

“Would that be likely with a fire going?” Brad demanded. “Dan dug it out of the coal pile. Must be a couple thousand dollars here at least.”

“Let’s count it,” proposed Fred Hatfield.

Sam, who was Fred’s father, had not spoken. However, very soberly he had been examining not only the metal box, but many of the packages of money.

“Do you think it’s genuine, sir?” Dan asked eagerly.

“I’m not an expert on money,” the Cub leader replied. “But this looks like straight goods to me.”

“How do you suppose the box came to be here in the church?” Brad asked.

“I haven’t the slightest idea. It bothers me though. I must notify the pastor and the church trustees at once. Also, the discovery should be reported to the police.”

The Cubs wanted to see the exact spot where Dan had found the money box. For that matter, so did Mr. Hatfield.

They all trooped down into the basement to re-examine the coal bin. The Cub leader could find no clue as to the person who might have hidden the box.

True, he pointed out several large-size shoeprints visible on the dusty basement floor. But he agreed with Dan and Brad that they likely had been made by workmen who had repaired the furnace.

“Say, maybe one of the workmen hid the box!” Red exclaimed.

Mr. Hatfield said he considered the possibility an unlikely one. However, he would not venture even a guess as to who might have left the box in the coal bin.

“For all we know, it might even be stolen money,” he commented.

Dan, who had stood near the foot of the basement stairs, had heard an unusual sound overhead.

“Listen!” he commanded.

The Cubs became quiet. Distinctly, they could hear a rattling noise.

“Sounds like someone trying to raise a window,” Brad said. “That box of money on the table—”

Mr. Hatfield started up the stairs, but without undue haste.

“Take it easy, boys,” he said. “It’s only the wind rattling a window. The money’s safe enough.”

Despite reassurance, the Cubs were uneasy as they followed their leader up the creaking stairs.

If the box were gone—

Mr. Hatfield opened the door of the study. Every eye focused upon the table.

The box of money was exactly where it had been left.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Mr. Hatfield admitted, chuckling at his own uneasiness. “I’ll acknowledge that hearing the window rattle gave me a most uncomfortable feeling.”

“How much do you suppose is here?” Dan speculated, fingering one of the packages. “Shall we count it?”

“Well—” the Cub leader hesitated. “I’m not too eager to stay here in an empty church with so much money. But then, go ahead. The job shouldn’t take long.”

The Cubs seated themselves at the table. Mr. Hatfield began to count, while the Cubs checked his work.

Since the onset of colder weather, Den 2 had made use of the church as a meeting place for both Den and Pack gatherings.

In warmer weather they usually assembled at The Cave, overlooking the river. As its name implied, the chamber had been carved by water action, and was reached by a flight of stairs built by the Cubs and their fathers.

During the previous summer, the boys had enjoyed many an adventure along the waterfront. The story of their difficulties with river pirates has been told in the Cub book entitled: “Dan Carter and the River Camp.”

In the first Cub Scout book, “Dan Carter, Cub Scout,” the boys tried a little back yard camping. Even so, they found themselves battling a flood at a pheasant farm, and incidentally, meeting several unpleasant persons.

Now, as the Cubs watched Mr. Hatfield count the money found in the tin box, they sensed that once again they were on the verge of adventure.

The Cub leader tallied eight hundred and forty dollars in twenty dollar denominations. Brad carefully set this amount down.

Next the Cub leader started to count the ten dollar bills. He was well into the third package, when Dan, a little weary of watching, raised his eyes to the window.

What he saw nearly caused him to rise off his chair.

A face was pressed against the windowpane.

In the fleeting instant that he saw it, Dan gained only a vague impression of a flattened nose and intent eyes.

Too startled to cry out, he kicked Brad’s foot under the table.

“Hey, cut it out!” the older boy exclaimed. “Be your age.”

“The window!” Dan muttered. “Look!”

Not only Brad, but Mr. Hatfield and all the Cubs turned to see what had attracted Dan’s attention.

But the face had vanished.

“What’s eating you, Dan?” Brad demanded. “Now you’ve mixed up the count. Has finding this money got you jittery?”

“It sure has,” Dan admitted. “But I know I didn’t dream up that face. I saw it plain as day!”

“What face?” asked Mr. Hatfield.

“I saw it only a minute ago at the window. Someone was looking in here—watching us count the money!”

“Dan has got a bad case of the jitters,” Midge chuckled.

“No, he hasn’t either!”

Dan’s unexpected defender was none other than Babe Bunning. The youngest member of Den 2 made his announcement in a shrill voice which quavered with excitement.

“I saw the f-face too,” he chattered. “Only I was so—so scared I couldn’t say anything.”

“You saw it too!” Brad echoed. “Say, this may add up to something!”

Mr. Hatfield already had darted to the window.

The rain had nearly ceased. Gazing out into the drenched churchyard, he could see no one.

“Turn off the light a minute,” he instructed.

Brad found the switch.

With the study dark, it was easier to distinguish objects in the church yard. The Cubs clustered at Mr. Hatfield’s shoulder, tense and uneasy.

“I don’t see anyone—” Mr. Hatfield began.

He broke off and Dan finished the sentence. “Over there by the bushes, to the right of the walk! See!”

“Someone sneaking off toward the street!” Brad added. “Let’s nab him!”

“The dirty old peeping Tom!” yelled Chips. “Come on! We’ll get him!”

“Wait, boys!” Mr. Hatfield advised. “We don’t know—”

Usually obedient, the Cubs now were too excited to listen.

Before Mr. Hatfield could stop them, they darted through the empty church and out into the yard.

“Surround the bushes and close in,” Brad instructed.

The Cubs circled the area where they last had seen the mysterious prowler. Soon it was apparent, however, that the man had eluded them.

He had slipped away in the brief time it had taken them to reach the church yard. Although they looked up and down the street, the man was nowhere to be seen.

“We’ve lost him!” Brad declared in deep disgust.

“Perhaps it’s just as well,” said Mr. Hatfield. The Cub leader, a little short of breath, had followed the Cubs into the yard.

“Just as well?” Brad echoed. “I don’t get it.”

“It’s no crime to look into the window of a church, Brad. Didn’t you act rather hastily?”

“I guess I did,” Brad admitted. “I was so anxious to catch that fellow I didn’t stop to think what the outcome might be if we did nail him.”

“Dan, did you recognize the person?” the Cub leader asked him.

“No, Mr. Hatfield, I didn’t. All I saw was a face flattened against the windowpane.”

“You think, though, that he was watching us count the money?”

“I’m sure of it.”

“It’s possible that the person—whoever he was—may have been the one who hid the money in the basement,” Mr. Hatfield said, thinking aloud. “On the other hand, it may have been a curious passerby attracted by our light in the study.”

“In any case, we were seen counting the money,” Brad pointed out.

“And that’s not good,” Mr. Hatfield completed, his face troubled. “I’d hate to have it noised around Webster City that we’ve found a box of money. It might make trouble.”

“What do you think we should do?” Brad asked anxiously.

Mr. Hatfield already had made up his mind. He spoke decisively:

“The most important thing now is to get the money box to a safe place. I’ll take it home for tonight.”

Well satisfied with the decision, the Cubs trooped back into the church to gather together their belongings.

With the exception of Brad and Dan, the other Cubs lived close by. The two boys were to ride with Mr. Hatfield and his son Fred.

“The storm has let up now, so I’ll trust the rest of you to shift for yourselves,” the Cub leader said. “Go straight to your homes and don’t stop along the way to pick any daisies. I’ll report to you in the morning as to what will be done with the money box.”

“We’ll be okay,” Red said cheerfully.

“Sure,” agreed Midge. “It’s only a couple of steps. Just take good care of that money box.”

“Dan, Brad and Fred will help me guard it,” Mr. Hatfield said. “I don’t mind admitting I’ll be relieved to turn it over to someone else for safe keeping.”

Before taking the box to his parked car, the Cub leader carefully wrapped it in his coat. Everyone breathed a bit easier when they were out of the church.

Mr. Hatfield locked the money box into the rear compartment of his car.

“Oh, by the way, boys, just a word of caution,” he said as he prepared to drive away. “Until I’ve had a chance to report to the police, it’s just as well that no one learns about the money. So I’m depending upon you to keep our discovery a secret.”