CHAPTER 5 A Flash of Light

Early the next morning after nearly two days at Mr. Holloway’s shoreland home, the Cubs regretfully broke up their camp.

As they were packing their belongings into the cars, both Mr. and Mrs. Holloway assured the boys they were expected back that weekend for a meeting of the Pack.

“We’ll be here with bells!” declared Dan. “Next week may we visit the pheasant farm again? I intend to read up on game birds at the library and make a real study of ’em.”

“Whether we go there again or not, depends on Mr. Silverton,” Mr. Hatfield reminded the Cubs. “What’s the plan now, Chips?”

“Red and I are to meet Brad and Dan at Silverton’s office at ten o’clock this morning.”

“Fine!” approved the leader of the Cubs. “Be sure to let Mr. Holloway or me know how you come out.”

Though rather dreading the interview with Mr. Silverton, Brad and Dan were on hand at the stock broker’s office five minutes before the appointed hour.

Chips and Red came dragging in ten minutes later.

“Brace up, Red,” Brad encouraged him, noticing his downcast face. “I don’t think Mr. Silverton will be so tough.”

“Oh, I’m not worryin’ about the interview,” Red replied.

“Then what makes you look so down at the mouth?”

“I’m sore because I lost my Wolf badge yesterday. I guess it pulled off my jersey while we were in the woods.”

“That’s too bad,” Brad sympathized with him. “Well, maybe you’ll find it later.”

“Maybe,” Red shrugged, running a hand nervously through his short-cropped auburn hair. “Well, let’s get this interview over with!”

Brad spoke to the receptionist, who had been watching the Cubs with intent interest. However, when he asked if they might see Mr. Silverton, she explained that the stock broker was out of the city.

“He may return tomorrow, but I’m not certain,” she said regretfully.

“We’ll have to come back later then,” Brad replied, disappointed by their failure to see the sportsman.

Once outside the office, the four boys discussed their next move. “We could explain to Mr. Silverton by letter,” Brad said. “It’s better though I think, to see him personally. Let’s try to see him later.”

Chips and Red, who were on their way to the public library, parted with their companions at the next corner. Brad and Dan went on together, discussing plans for the week-end Pack ceremony at Mr. Holloway’s cabin.

So absorbed were they in their conversation that they bumped squarely into a man who had crossed the street against a red light. The pedestrian was Saul Dobbs.

“Say, watch where you’re going!” he exclaimed before they could apologize. And then, recognizing the pair, he exclaimed angrily: “I’ve been hoping to meet you again!”

Without giving either Dan or Brad opportunity to speak, the man began to berate them in a loud voice:

“Mr. Silverton let you visit his pheasant farm, didn’t he? And you promised him you’d stick to the main trails and not disturb the pheasants! But did you keep your promise? No! The minute you were out of sight, you sneak into the restricted area!”

“Just a minute, Mr. Dobbs—” interposed Brad.

“Now don’t try giving me any excuses! You deliberately went into that section by the creek. I got the goods on you! And you needn’t deny it either!”

“No one is denying anything,” Dan said hotly. “If you’ll give us a chance to explain—”

“You won’t do any explaining to me! You’re nothing but a bunch of unreliable youngsters. If I have my way, you’ll never set foot on Mr. Silverton’s land again!”

“You’re being unfair,” Brad said quietly. “It’s true two of the Cubs wandered by mistake into the restricted area. But we went to see Mr. Silverton a few minutes ago, intending to explain. We couldn’t because he’s out of town.”

“A likely story! Well, get this straight! You’re to stay away from the farm.”

Though resenting Saul Dobbs’ manner, Brad nevertheless said evenly: “Mr. Silverton gave us permission to visit the pheasant farm. It seems to me he’s the one who should decide whether or not our privileges are withdrawn.”

“I’ll see to that,” Dobbs said, his eyes blazing. “I knew there’d be trouble to pay when he let you Cubs onto the property!”

Pushing past the two boys, the foreman started on down the street.

“Wait, Mr. Dobbs!” Dan called impulsively. “There’s something we want to tell you—the creek is jammed—”

Dobbs paid not the slightest attention, if indeed, he heard. He strode on, turning at the corner.

“He’s heading for Mr. Silverton’s office,” Brad guessed. “Probably he will put in a bad word for us with the secretary.”

“Everything’s messed up now,” Dan said morosely. “Dobbs can make the situation look ugly.”

“Trust him to do it too! Well, I’m afraid with Silverton out of town, all we can do is report to Sam Hatfield and Mr. Holloway.”

Deeply disturbed by their meeting with Saul Dobbs, the two boys speculated upon how he had learned that Chips and Red had entered the restricted area.

“He couldn’t have seen them there or he’d have made a fuss about it yesterday,” reasoned Brad. “No, he’s learned about it since. Maybe he came upon footprints.”

At the next corner, the two boys entered a drugstore where they telephoned Mr. Hatfield to report the failure of their mission. The Cub leader’s answer was reassuring.

“Don’t worry about it,” he advised. “I’ll talk to Mr. Silverton myself when he returns to the city. I’m sure everything can be straightened out.”

The conversation lifted a load from the minds of the two Cubs. During the next two days, Brad and Dan went about their usual affairs, not giving the matter too much thought. True, they twice telephoned Mr. Silverton’s office, only to be told he had not returned to the city.

However, at the Pack meeting held Saturday night at Mr. Holloway’s cabin, their failure to clear up the misunderstanding was brought forcibly to attention.

Without consulting anyone, Chips and Red had made their collection of pheasant feathers into an Indian headdress. With more enthusiasm than tact, they proudly displayed their handiwork to the Den members.

“Neat, huh?” Chips asked Brad. “Do you think it might win a prize in the Pack handicraft show?”

“The workmanship is all right,” Brad admitted reluctantly. “But those feathers—well, I wish you hadn’t used ’em.”

“They were lying on the ground, going to waste.”

“Sure, I know,” Brad sighed. “I guess there wasn’t anything wrong about taking ’em, except that they were picked up where we had no business to be.”

“Then you think we shouldn’t enter the headdress in the handicraft show?” Chips demanded, a trifle sullenly. “After all the work Red and I did?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Brad said uncomfortably. “I’ll have to ask Mr. Hatfield. I’m all mixed up. I just wish Silverton would get back so we could talk this over and clear up things.”

Troubled, the older boy looked about for the Cub leader. Both he and Mr. Holloway were talking to the parents of the Cubs, answering a multitude of questions. They were so busy he could not get near either of them.

“Come on, Brad, join in the singing,” called Mrs. Holloway, signaling him from across the room.

To please her, Brad mingled with the group. At the top of their lungs, the Cubs were warbling:

“Old Akela had a Pack. E I E I O,

And in this Pack he had some Dens. E I E I O.

With Den 1 here, and Den 2 there

Here a Den, there a Den,

Everywhere a happy Den,

Old Akela had a Pack. E I E I O.”

Joining in, Brad began to relax and to feel his worries slipping away. By the time Mr. Hatfield gave the signal for the Pack meeting to start, he again was in a cheerful mood.

Six new Bobcats were to be taken into the Pack, among them Martin Howell, a nine year old, who would join Den 2.

Due to the soggy ground, it had not seemed advisable to build an outdoor campfire.

Instead, Mrs. Holloway, with the help of the Cubs, had made an imitation fire in the center of the cabin room.

In the absence of the Pack Cubmaster, Mr. Hatfield, his assistant, donned a blanket and Indian headdress in preparation for conducting the ceremony.

Dan began to beat the tom tom. The Cubs, wearing one feather to signify Wolf rank, two for Bear, three for Lion, and four for Webelos, formed a square about the fire.

Upon another signal, Brad brought into the room the boys who were to be accepted into the Pack as Bobcats.

“Akela,” he said, addressing Mr. Hatfield, “I bring friends who would join the Tribe of the Webelos.”

“Does the tribe wish them to join?” inquired Mr. Hatfield.

“Let them enter!” chanted the Pack members in unison.

Acting as Den Chief, Brad then led the newcomers into the square, so that they faced Mr. Hatfield.

“Do our friends know the Law of the Pack and are they ready to follow it?” asked Mr. Hatfield.

“They do, Akela.”

“Then let them repeat the Law.”

Solemnly the boys spoke the words:

“The Cub FOLLOWS Akela.

The Cub HELPS the Pack go.

The Pack HELPS the Cub Grow.

The Cub GIVES good will.”

Mr. Hatfield then asked the parents of the candidates to come forward to stand by their sons. Welcoming them to the Pack, he explained briefly that Cubbing was a program for the entire family, and one which centered about the home circle.

The ceremony ended and the meeting broke up with another song.

Remaining to help clear away the litter after the others had gone, Brad and Dan walked down to the river’s edge with Mr. Holloway.

“The river seems to be rising again,” the Den Dad said, checking the level. “As yet, it is not alarming. But a hard rain on top of what we’ve had might flood the lowlands.”

“I wonder if Dobbs has cleared out that dam in the creek?” Dan remarked, turning to stare across the river toward the Silverton property. “We tried to tell him about it but he acted so ugly—”

The boy broke off so suddenly that Mr. Holloway who was retying the boat, straightened up quickly.

“What do you see, Dan?” he asked.

“Nothing now, Mr. Holloway. A second ago—just as I spoke, I thought I saw a flashing light across the river.”

“Where, Dan?”

“On Mr. Silverton’s land, or close to it. Near the old logging road, I’d judge.”

“I see nothing now.”

“No, sir. The flash only lasted a second. There, it is again! See!”

This time both Brad and Mr. Holloway saw the shooting beam of light. Close to the ground, it shone brightly for a moment and then disappeared.

“It might have been an automobile headlight or possibly a spot light,” Mr. Holloway said. “Odd that an automobile would be on that old road at this time of night.”

“Shouldn’t we go there to find out if anything is wrong?”

“I hardly think so,” Mr. Holloway replied, smiling at the boy’s eagerness. “Someone possibly may be prowling on Mr. Silverton’s premises. More likely though, Dobbs or another employee is doing night work. In any case, it is none of our affair.”