  Chub’s squeal of fright unnerved the other Cubs for an instant. But they did not give way to panic. Chips grasped the younger boy’s arm, holding him as he would have fled from the church grounds. “Take it easy,” he advised. “There aren’t any ghosts and we all know it.” “I-I heard something,” Chub said, half ashamed. “It sounded like a bell tapping.” The Cubs stood gazing up at the belfry. So far as they could see, the rusty old bell hung absolutely motionless. “You imagined it,” Red said gruffly. “How could that bell jingle?” “I thought I heard it tap myself,” Midge said. “Maybe the wind moved the bell,” Red offered as an explanation. “It’s blowing fairly strong from the direction of the river.” The other Cubs nodded agreement, satisfied that the mystery was solved. Dan remained silent. He too had heard the metallic sound which had startled Chub, and has assumed it to be a tapping bell. But to theorize that the wind had been responsible, seemed silly. Nevertheless, not caring to further alarm the Cubs, he did not reveal his thoughts. “Come on, let’s practice basketball,” Red urged to break the uneasy silence which had fallen upon the group. “Here, Midge, catch!” He tossed the ball to his friend, who passed it back. The boys spread out, palming the basketball from one to another, faster and faster. Then they played “keep away” for a few minutes. Chub was less skillful than the other Cubs, frequently letting the ball slip from his fingers. “I don’t know why I’m so awkward,” he said miserably. “You’ll catch on all at once,” Dan encouraged him. “Here, pass me a fast, hard one now.” Chub swung the ball in a wide arch and heaved with all his strength. His aim was distressingly bad. The ball sailed high above Dan’s reach, over the bushes and through a window. A stunned silence came upon the Cubs as they heard the crash and beheld the damage. “Wow! You’ve done it now, Chub,” Chips said pityingly. “We’ll all catch it from Old Terry,” Midge added, staring at the jagged hole in the pane. “I guess we’ll have to pay for the damage.” “It was a-all my fault,” Chub admitted, close to tears. “How much do windows cost?” “Oh, a dollar or two,” Midge said vaguely. “Maybe more.” Tears began to roll down Chub’s cheeks. “Don’t let it throw you,” Dan said, slapping him on the shoulders. “Breaking a window can happen to anyone.” “It’s not that,” Chub mumbled, his eyes downcast. “How am I going to pay? I-I don’t have hardly any spending money. And I can’t ask Mrs. Lornsdale to help me. I wish I’d never joined the Cubs! Then I wouldn’t be in this awful mess.” “Hey, cut out that kind of talk!” Dan said. “You’re not in any mess. It’s not fair either, to blame the Cubs for this. It was just an accident.” “I didn’t mean that about the Cubs. I’ll get the money somehow.” “Forget it,” Dan advised. “It was as much my fault as it was yours that the window was smashed. I told you to throw the ball hard, didn’t I?” “Yes, but—” “And I was standing in front of the church window, Chub. So it was more my fault than it was yours. I’ll see Old Terry first thing tomorrow and settle for the window.” “Pay it all, you mean?” Midge asked in surprise. “Sure,” Dan replied. “I have some money saved. It won’t strap me.” Though he spoke carelessly, the denner had struggled inwardly before making his generous offer. For weeks he had been hoarding every penny, intending to buy a basketball of his own. Now he’d have to forget about it. “You shouldn’t pay for a window I broke,” Chub insisted, but he plainly was relieved by the offer. “I-I’ll try to pay you back.” “Just forget it,” Dan advised. “Set your mind on those tests you have to pass for Cubs. Know the Cub handclasp yet?” Chub shook his head. Dan showed him the grasp with the first finger extended straight along the inside of the other person’s wrist. “Tell me what WEBELOS means too,” Chub said eagerly. “The letters WBL stand for Cub ranks,” Dan explained. “Wolf-Bear-Lion. ‘We’ll be loyal.’ Get it?” “I guess so. But what does the ‘S’ stand for?” “Scout. The letters WBLS form the skeleton or framework of the Indian tribal name, Webelos.” “Cubs are supposed to be cheerful, helpful and friendly always,” Midge declared. “Brave too,” added Red significantly as he moved toward the bushes to retrieve the lost basketball. Chub flushed, knowing full well that reference was being made to the jittery way he had talked about ghosts. “I’ve got a lot to learn,” he said soberly. “I want to be a Cub the worst way. I’ll try awfully hard.” “Sure you will,” Dan declared with a friendly grin. “You’ll make it too. At first it seems as if there’s a lot to learn. Know the Law of the Pack yet?” “I think so. But what is the Pack?” “Gee whiskers! You are dumb!” Red snorted, coming back with the basketball tucked under his arm. “You’re violating one of the Cub rules right now,” Dan informed Red. “A Cub is supposed to be courteous.” “Aw, I didn’t mean anything! I’m sorry, Chub.” “I don’t mind being called dumb, because I am. But I’m catching on a little.” The Cubs warmed to the boy, liking the way he admitted his shortcomings. He might be young, but he was eager and willing, and that was what counted. “You asked about the Pack,” Dan said, taking up Chub’s question. “It’s an association of Dens. Every month all the Den members have a big gathering of the citywide Pack. Believe me, those are some pow-wows!” “Say, don’t you wish the Pack would pull off a basketball tournament,” remarked Red. “Wonder if Den 1 has a team?” “We couldn’t get ’em interested,” Dan regretfully reported. “They’re going out for swimming this fall.” “What’s the use having a Cub team unless we can round up competition?” “We’ll find some,” Dan promised. “First, though, we ought to get our own team better organized. We can stand a lot of practice.” “You can say that again,” Chips agreed, gazing at the jagged hole in the window. The unfortunate accident had somewhat dampened the high spirits of the Cubs. Abruptly, Red announced that it was time for him to go home. His departure also was a signal for the others to leave. Dan walked with Chub, telling him again not to worry about the smashed glass. “It shouldn’t cost much to repair the damage,” he declared. “I’ll see Old Terry about it right away. No use waiting.” “I’ll go with you,” Chub offered. “I can’t let you take all the blame.” The Treuhaft cottage had a deserted appearance as the boys approached. Old Terry had abandoned his fence building and all his tools had been put away. Though Dan pounded repeatedly on the door, there was no answer. “He’s off somewhere,” Dan commented. “Oh, well, no use waiting. I’ll come back here tomorrow after church.” The boys parted, Chub returning to the widow’s home at the outskirts of Webster City. Dan sauntered on alone, enjoying the nice air and thinking about the events of the day. He liked Chub and intended to look out for him. All the same, it struck him as odd that the boy never revealed anything about himself. Why had Mr. Hatfield requested that no questions be asked? Did he have special information about Chub that he was keeping to himself? “I’m getting as curious as an old tabby cat,” Dan chided himself. “Guess I’ll have all I can do to look after my own affairs.” His way took him past the old church. Dan had no intention of stopping. Nevertheless, he did glance toward the belfry, visible through the half-naked trees. “Queer about that tapping bell,” he mused. “I know I heard it. Since it couldn’t have been the wind, a bird must have flown against the clapper.” The explanation satisfied Dan for the moment, and he smiled in relief. How naive Chub had been to suggest a ghost! Not that the old decaying church didn’t have an eerie appearance with its dead vines and look of utter desolation. Bushes had overgrown nearly all of the church walls. The mass of crimson and yellow leaves against stone and brick made a pretty splash of color, Dan thought. But Old Terry really should whack down the brush a bit, even with winter coming on. Dan’s thoughts were roving, when suddenly his attention focused upon a tall, mis-shapen evergreen at the west side of the old building. He halted to stare. The little tree was moving jerkily, as if alive. “What the dickens?” Dan muttered. As he watched, a shadowy figure slithered from behind the foliage and vanished toward the graveyard. |
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