  Dan stood very still for a moment, staring fixedly at the place where the shadowy figure had disappeared. He wasn’t sure what he had seen, or for that matter whether he had observed anything. Had his approach frightened away someone who had been loitering at the rear windows of the old church? So far as he could see from the road, no one now was lurking in the cemetery. However, the tilted tombstones offered many hiding places. Dan briefly considered ambling over to study the layout but decided against it. The hour was late and he was due home. Besides the old church stood in an isolated area, easily accessible to tramps who might come up the slope from the river area. “No use asking for trouble,” he thought. “Whoever was prowling around, probably wasn’t doing any harm.” Dan waited a few minutes longer, thinking he might again glimpse the elusive figure. Seeing no one, he trudged on home. Sunday was a pleasant, quiet day in the Carter household. Dan attended church school in the morning as was his usual custom. After that came a big dinner, and then a half hour spent with the funnies. Suddenly he dropped the newspaper as if its pages were charged with electricity. “Wow!” “What’s wrong, Dan?” his Mother inquired from across the room. “I forgot something important. I’ve got to rush out to Terry Treuhaft’s place right away!” “Can’t it wait?” Dan shook his head and explained about the broken window. “I promised the Cubs I’d take care of it first thing today, Mom. It sort of slipped my mind. I’ll go right now.” He fished two precious dollar bills from his bank. The window shouldn’t cost half that much, he hoped. But to be on the safe side, he would take an extra dollar along. “Do you want your father to drive you to the cottage?” his mother questioned. “I don’t mind walking,” Dan replied. “See you later.” Leaves were falling fast, dotting walks and highway. Dan shuffled through them, enjoying the soft crackle underfoot. He sucked in a deep breath, and then began to whistle because his spirits were high. Terry Treuhaft was nowhere about when Dan came to the cottage. He rapped on the door. The knock was a bit more forceful than he had intended it to be. Almost at once the door was opened by a stout woman in a checkered dress. Dan assumed she must be Mrs. Treuhaft and he could guess by the expression of her face that she was very annoyed. “I’m sorry,” he apologized quickly. “I didn’t mean to knock so hard.” Mrs. Treuhaft did not smile or reply graciously as he had expected her to do. Instead, she fixed him with an unfriendly stare. “What do you want?” she asked, not opening the door very wide. Dan explained that he had come to see Mr. Treuhaft. “He isn’t here and won’t be for awhile,” the woman answered shortly. Dan reached for his pocketbook. “I want to pay for the window at the church,” he said. “Do you think a dollar will be enough?” “Church window?” A strange light flickered in Mrs. Treuhaft’s steel gray eyes. Dan started to tell her what had happened the previous day, but she cut him short. “You think a dollar is enough to pay for the damage! Well, the very idea!” “It was only a small window,” Dan said, startled by the intensity of the woman’s outburst. “But I’ll pay whatever you think it will cost to replace the glass. Two dollars maybe?” “Two dollars! Why that wouldn’t begin to do it. The damage was enormous! Simply enormous! My husband was furious when he learned of it. For your information, he’s talking to the church trustees about it now.” Dan could not understand why such a fuss was being made about a window pane. Hadn’t he offered to pay? Why, the incident was being blown up out of all proportion! “You have a nerve coming here and offering me a dollar!” the woman went on angrily. “But it proves one thing. You admit you did the damage?” “Why, yes, we broke the window. It was an accident. We were playing with a basketball and it went wild, through the glass.” “That’s all I want to know.” The woman nodded with grim satisfaction and closed the door in Dan’s face. A moment later she flung it open again to add severely: “You’ll hear more about this later!” Then she closed the door again. Puzzled by the woman’s strange behavior, Dan started slowly home. He was sorely troubled to learn that the Treuhafts meant to make so much of the accident. What sum, he wondered, could they demand for a broken window? If two dollars wasn’t enough to pay for the glass, he’d really have to dig deep into his savings. “Why, when I drove a baseball through Mrs. Simpson’s basement window last Spring she charged me only seventy-five cents,” he reflected. “I guess a church window must be something special. But that window wasn’t stained glass—just ordinary.” Dan decided not to tell Chub how much the mishap was to cost. He was quite sure the new Cub had little or no spending money, and couldn’t be expected to help out in any case. Anyway, he’d offered to pay for the damage. Since the money had been refused, the next move would be up to Mr. Treuhaft. Monday night when Dan went to the church gymnasium for basketball practice, he still was brooding about the unfortunate accident. However, he did not disturb the other boys by relating what had happened. The Cubs tried free throws and worked out a team play which didn’t go too smoothly. Finally, everyone went upstairs for a special meeting Mr. Hatfield had called. Though the business session had been set for four-thirty sharp, the leader had not yet arrived. This was unusual, for Mr. Hatfield made a point of punctuality. The boys talked over interesting places they had thought up for the Den to visit. As time dragged on and still Mr. Hatfield did not come, Brad tried to keep the Cubs interested by discussing plans for the Friday night party. “Anyone found an ice cream freezer yet?” he asked the group. “We know there are a couple at the old church,” Midge finally said. “We should be able to get those.” “Don’t count on it,” Dan interposed. “Old Terry Treuhaft has it in for us. He’s really steaming.” “Terry’s down on the Cubs?” Brad questioned in surprise. “Why?” The Cubs looked embarrassed, reluctant to explain. When Brad pressed his inquiry, Chub stammered: “It—it was all my fault. I threw a basketball through the church window.” “The blame was partly mine, and I’m paying for it,” Dan said quickly. “I went out to Treuhaft’s place yesterday. He wasn’t there and his wife was pretty snippy with me. So I figure we won’t get those freezers now.” “There must be others in Webster City. But we’ll have to hustle if we get them in time for Friday. Guess I’d better name a special committee to look after the job and see that the ice cream is ready in time for the party. Any volunteers?” “I’ll do my best,” Dan offered. “Good! I’ll appoint Chub, Red and Chips to help you. Fred and Midge are to look up the matter of getting ice and rock salt. Mrs. Holloway has promised to help with the ice cream mixture. What kind’ll we have?” “Tutti fruiti,” piped up Chips. “You would think of something like that, you drip!” Midge accused. “We’re having something simple like vanilla.” “Let’s compromise on strawberry,” Brad suggested. “All in favor, say ‘aye.’ Opposed? The ayes have it.” By this time it was ten minutes to five, and the Cubs began to shift uneasily in their chairs. Mr. Hatfield never had been so late before. “I’ll bet he’s been in an auto accident,” Chips began to speculate. “Something has happened or he’d be here.” “I could telephone his house,” Brad said reluctantly. He was debating the matter when the Cubs heard an outside church door open and close. “There he is now,” Brad exclaimed in relief. Mr. Hatfield came into the meeting room, his gaze sweeping the semi-circle of expectant Cubs. “I am sorry to be late, boys.” He spoke stiffly, and in an oddly subdued tone of voice. The Cubs knew instantly that something was wrong. Mr. Hatfield didn’t seem at all his usual pleasant, easy-going self. His lips were drawn into a tight line of disappointment and he was unsmiling. “We thought something had happened to you,” Brad remarked. “Shall we start the meeting with a song or the pledge of allegiance?” “No, it’s too late for a meeting now,” Mr. Hatfield replied. “We have a very important matter to discuss.” The Cubs became most attentive, aware that for some reason the group had incurred the leader’s displeasure. As Mr. Hatfield’s gaze swept the semi-circle it lingered for a moment on Dan. The boy had an uncomfortable feeling that he was being singled out for attention. Had Old Terry Treuhaft complained about the window perhaps? “Boys, I’ve just come from an unpleasant meeting,” Mr. Hatfield said. “I was on my way here when I received a telephone call, asking me to stop at the office of Richard W. Brady.” “The lawyer?” interposed Brad, recognizing the name. Mr. Hatfield nodded and went on: “Mr. Brady represents the trustees of the Christian Church.” Dan felt a cold lump come into his throat. So his hunch had been right! Old Terry Treuhaft had made trouble about the window. “I’ve had a most uncomfortable half hour,” Mr. Hatfield resumed. “Mr. Brady has accused our organization of some very dishonorable acts. To put it concisely, he’s threatening to sue for $20,000!” |
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