Dan Carter and the Money Box Page 13

  CHAPTER 13 Hot Biscuits

  "Gosh, a thief!" cried Brad, the first to recover from shock. "He's beenrifling Mr. Merrimac's place!"

  With one accord, he and Dan gave chase to the intruder.

  From the start it was a losing race. The man already had put aconsiderable distance between himself and the Merrimac house.

  Long-legged and surprisingly agile for his weight, he continued to gainon Dan and Brad.

  Finally, he slipped between two buildings and was completely lost.Winded, the boys halted to consider what next to do.

  "Not a chance to catch him now," Brad puffed. "Let's call the police, andthen go back to Merrimac's place. He may have slugged that old man."

  "Brad, didn't you think that fellow looked like the tramp we saw out nearthe marsh?"

  "Well, he had the same general build, Dan. I didn't see his face."

  "Neither did I. He purposely kept his hat pulled low over his eyes. Heck,just our luck to let him get away! For all we know, he might even be theone who stole the money box."

  "That's possible," Brad agreed. "Our best bet is to put police on histrail. If we can furnish a good description, they may be able to pick himup."

  Circling the block to make certain the intruder had not emerged elsewherein the vicinity, the boys sought a policeman. Unable to find one in theneighborhood, they telephoned their report to the Central station.

  "Well, that's done," Brad said in relief. "Now let's hustle back toMerrimac's place and find out if the old man's been hurt. I've got amighty uneasy feeling."

  Upon arriving at the Merrimac home a few minutes later, the boys saw thatthe kitchen window remained wide open.

  "Raise me up and I'll look in," Dan proposed.

  Brad lifted him so that he could grab the sill and partly support his ownweight.

  "See anything?"

  "There's no one on the floor. But I can only see the kitchen. Think Ishould crawl on in?"

  Brad was given no opportunity to decide, for just then a hand was laidheavily upon his shoulder.

  Startled, he whirled around so suddenly, that his supporting shoulderdeprived Dan of a substantial base. The younger boy lost his balance andslipped to the ground.

  "What's going on here? Trying to break in, eh?"

  Dan and Brad found themselves confronted by Atwood Merrimac. A sack ofgroceries clutched in one hand, he held Brad with the other as he gazedsternly at the two Cubs.

  "Oh, it's you, Mr. Merrimac," Brad murmured in relief. "We're glad to seeyou're all right."

  "I can imagine you're glad to see me! Sort of caught you in the act,didn't I?"

  Brad and Dan were aghast.

  "You don't think--you can't think we were trying to break in!" the lattergasped.

  "Unless appearances are deceitful, you gave a first class imitation ofit, my lad! How did that window get open?"

  In their anxiety to clear themselves, both boys talked at once.

  Mr. Merrimac's wrinkled face softened as he listened.

  "So you thought I might have been laid out," he declared in satisfaction."I didn't know anyone had that much interest in my welfare!"

  Then as the full implication of the open window came to him, he addedanxiously:

  "This makes the second time my house has been entered! I wonder what'smissing this time?"

  Handing the sack of groceries to Brad, the elderly man unlocked thekitchen door.

  "Come in, come in," he invited, as the boys hesitated. "We'll see what'swhat."

  Nothing appeared to have been disturbed in the kitchen. The room however,was in a frightful state of disorder. Mr. Merrimac had not washed thebreakfast dishes, and the remains of a meager lunch remained on the whiteporcelain table.

  "I haven't had time to clean up yet today," he apologized. "Living alonemakes one fall into careless habits."

  With the boys close at his heels, Mr. Merrimac went from room to room. Innone was there any evidence that anything had been taken.

  "Everything is exactly as I left it a half hour ago when I went to thegrocery store," Mr. Merrimac said in a puzzled tone. "You're sure you sawthat fellow crawling out of the window?"

  "We not only saw him, we chased him down the alley," Dan said earnestly."You believe us, don't you?"

  "Yes, I'm not doubting your word. Only it seems strange. Twice in a weekmy house has been entered. This time you must have driven the thief off."

  "That's probably what happened," Brad agreed. "I certainly rang thedoorbell hard."

  "When your place was entered that other time--you really lost money?" Danasked hesitatingly.

  "Certainly, I did. More than two thousand dollars. I kept it in a tin boxin a drawer of the dining room buffet."

  Brad and Dan were convinced that the money they had found in the churchmust belong to Mr. Merrimac rather than to the other claimants. But ifsuch were the case, how could the box ever have been transferred to thechurch basement? And what had become of it since then?

  "You may be receiving a call from the police any minute," Dan warned theold man. "We called them and reported the thief."

  "Drat it, what did you do that for?" Mr. Merrimac exploded. "Haven't Ienough trouble without being pestered by officers who'll ask me a hundredquestions."

  "I'm sorry," Dan apologized. "We didn't know that nothing had been taken.We weren't even sure that you might not have been slugged."

  "There! I shouldn't have been so testy," Mr. Merrimac said. "You did theright thing."

  Dan and Brad decided that nothing could be gained at the moment byspeaking to the old man about the church building pledge. It would be farwiser, they thought, to bring up the matter at another time.

  "Come back whenever you feel like it," Mr. Merrimac invited the Cubs ashe escorted them to the front door. "I'm always glad to see you."

  "Why, thanks, Mr. Merrimac," Dan returned, startled by the elderly man'scordiality.

  "Later on, we'll talk about the church building fund," Mr. Merrimacadded, apparently guessing why the boys had come. "Losing all that moneyupset me. If I get it back, I'll not forget you."

  With this promise, Dan and Brad had to content themselves.

  All week the Cubs worked on their armor and made preparation for thescheduled Round Table gathering. So enthusiastic were all the Cubs, thatit had been decided, not only Den 2, but the entire Pack comprised ofthree Webster City dens, would take part.

  Nearly every morning before school, Dan was up early making articleswhich could be used at the grand knighting ceremony.

  "I'm glad to see you painting and making designs," his mother praised hiswork. "I wish though, you'd conduct your creative experiments outdoors.Fresh paint doesn't go well with the pattern of the kitchen linoleum!"

  Dan took the hint and used the back porch for his work.

  One morning while the dew was still heavy on the ground, he was paintinga triangular banner to hang on the back of a ceremonial chair. Danbrushed on two red diamonds and then experimented with a few bright blue"X" marks sprinkled at random over the surface.

  "Hard at work?" inquired a friendly voice.

  Dan glanced up to see the milkman looking over his shoulder. He had notheard the wagon drive up.

  "Sure," Dan grinned, moving aside so the man could reach the milk box atthe doorstep. "I'm getting ready for the big Cub Scout knighting ceremonywe're to have at the church."

  "The Cubs really do a lot of interesting things," replied the milkman. Heslipped two bottles into the box and gathered up the empties. "I read theother day how the Cubs found some money--say, weren't you the one whoturned up that tin box?"

  "Guilty," agreed Dan. "I almost wish I hadn't found it too! So manypersons have put in a claim. Then to make matters worse, the boxdisappeared again."

  "I read about that too. Some neighbors of Mr. Hatfield told me the policegave him a pretty rough going over."

  "They questioned him, the same as they did me," Dan replied indignant
ly."But that's routine. He doesn't know what became of the money. Someoneswiped it from his house."

  "When was the box supposed to have disappeared?"

  "No one knows. We took it there the night it was found in the church.Then the next morning when the police came, Mr. Hatfield couldn't findit."

  "You know, I've been wondering if I should report this," the milkman saidthoughtfully.

  "Report what?"

  "I didn't think anything about it until after I'd read about the boxdisappearing, Dan. Then I began to wonder. I was delivering milk to thehouse across the street from the Hatfield place. It must have been aboutsix o'clock."

  "What did you see?" Dan asked impatiently.

  "A woman came out of the cellar exit. She seemed to be quite an old ladyin a black dress and a shawl of the same color. I couldn't see her face."

  "Mrs. Hatfield never dresses like that. She has modern clothes."

  "The woman had a bundle under her arm. The object, whatever it was, hadbeen wrapped in a newspaper."

  "What day was this?"

  "I don't remember the date. It was the same morning Mr. Hatfield reportedhe lost the money. I'd have told him about it, only it didn't register onme until yesterday that there might be any connection."

  "So far as I know no one lives at the Hatfield house except Sam, hiswife, and Fred," Dan said, deeply puzzled. "Who could the old lady havebeen?"

  "It was no one I knew. She kept the shawl over her head, either to hideher face or protect it from the cold air."

  "Which way did she go?" Dan asked.

  "I didn't notice. As I say, at the time I thought nothing about seeingher."

  "I think Mr. Hatfield should know about this, and maybe the police," saidDan. "So far, the only clue found is a black jet button. Apparently, itcame from a woman's dress. But how could a woman have known about thebox?"

  The milkman did not try to answer. Already late on his route, he startedtoward his wagon.

  "I won't get a chance to talk to Mr. Hatfield until late tonight," hecalled over his shoulder. "If you think what I told you means anything,Dan, let him know for me."

  "I'll do it right away," the boy promised.

  Even before the milk wagon was out of sight, he had gathered up hismaterials.

  "Mom, how about rushing breakfast?" he asked, carrying both the milk andhis work into the kitchen. "I want to see Mr. Hatfield before I go toschool."

  "I'll set the food right on," his mother promised.

  Dan ate on the fly. "Don't look for me after school tonight," he advisedas he banged out the door. "The Cubs are having a cook-out."

  At the Hatfield home, Dan found the Cub leader, his wife, and Fred eatingtheir own breakfast.

  "Have a roll and some chocolate with us," Mrs. Hatfield invited.

  "I've had my breakfast," Dan replied, eyeing the sugary hot roll with agreedy eye.

  "Oh, a growing boy always can eat a little more," Mrs. Hatfield laughed,offering him a chair. "Do have something with us, Dan."

  Thus urged, the boy slid into the seat by the window. As he sipped hotchocolate, he told Mr. Hatfield what the milkman had reported.

  "An elderly woman in black!" Mrs. Hatfield exclaimed. "I can't imagine!"

  "You've had no cleaning woman?" asked Dan.

  "Not in weeks, Dan. And no visitors at such an early hour of themorning."

  "I locked all the doors that night we brought the box here," Mr. Hatfieldsaid slowly.

  "The one opening into the cellar?" his wife asked him.

  "Well--I'm not sure."

  "Which means you didn't," Mrs. Hatfield said. "Oh, Sam, you _were_careless."

  "I'm afraid so," the Cub leader admitted. "After all the preaching I'vedone to the Cubs too."

  "It wasn't your fault," Dan said loyally. "Until lately, it's never beennecessary to lock a house up tight to keep one's belongings safe."

  "This always has been a good neighborhood," Mr. Hatfield agreed. "Thatfact gave me a false sense of security, I'm afraid."

  "If the milkman saw a woman leaving the house, that's obviously where themoney box went," Mrs. Hatfield declared, refilling Dan's cup withchocolate. "It explains too why the police found a jet button near wherethe box had been hidden."

  "But who could the woman have been?" Mr. Hatfield murmured. "So far as weknow, the only person besides the Cubs who knew about the box was thatman caught peeping into the church."

  "He must have told others," Mrs. Hatfield reasoned. "We can be fairlycertain of that because so many claims were put in for the money."

  "Learning about this woman convinces me of one thing," said Mr. Hatfield."I'm positive none of the Cubs told about the box. The leak came fromanother source."

  "Will you tell police?" Dan questioned.

  "Yes, Dan. This clue may be the most important one yet. I've begun tothink though, that the money never will be recovered. In that case, ifthe rightful claimant can prove his assertion, I'll make good the loss."

  "That doesn't seem fair, Mr. Hatfield," Dan protested.

  "I assumed responsibility for the money, Dan. Seemingly it was lostthrough my carelessness. I couldn't face the Cubs if I didn't make good."

  Dan said no more. He knew that Mr. Hatfield, being a man of honor, wouldkeep his word. However, he realized also that the Hatfields were onlymoderately well fixed and could not afford to lose so much of theirsavings.

  "Now don't worry about it, Dan," Mr. Hatfield said as they all arose fromthe breakfast table. "You're taking this matter entirely too seriously.Everything will come out in the wash."

  "If the money isn't found, we'll give up that new car we had intended tobuy," declared Mrs. Hatfield. "Expensive automobiles are an unnecessaryluxury."

  Dan looked so troubled that Mr. Hatfield, to take his mind off the moneybox, said quickly:

  "All set for the cook-out tonight?"

  "Yes, sir!"

  "Remind all the Cubs to meet here at my house right after school. Now youand Fred had better get along to school, or you'll be late."

  Dan thanked the Hatfields for the breakfast, and gathering up his books,went off with Fred.

  Later, after school had been dismissed for the day, all the Cubs met atMr. Hatfield's home for the hike and cook-out.

  No more was said about the missing tin box, for the Cub leader felt thatthe matter had been too much discussed. He preferred to have the boyscenter thoughts on the Knight Crusade and their own activities.

  Nevertheless, Dan fell into step with Brad as they set off for the marsharea, again bringing up the recent incident at Mr. Merrimac's home. Sofar as either boy knew, police had not been able to catch the man who hadfled from the dwelling.

  "Brad, do you suppose there could be any connection between that thiefand the woman who took the tin box?" Dan speculated.

  "Search me," Brad returned, shifting his knapsack to the other shoulder."Let's forget the money for tonight and just have fun. Mr. Hatfield'sworried enough without us always reminding him of it."

  "You're right," Dan agreed, properly set down. "Guess I have had it on mymind a lot lately."

  The boys hiked to an old mill of historical interest. After spending awhile there, they back-tracked to the marshland area.

  "I wonder if that old tramp is still camped out in the new house?" Danspeculated as they passed the construction site.

  Mr. Hatfield heard the remark.

  "I can answer that one," he informed the group. "I talked to Mr. Keeler,the contractor. He checked and found you boys were right."

  "Then the man was a tramp?" Brad asked.

  "Yes, he had managed to get in through a cellar window, and then hadunlocked the door from inside. Until he was caught, he enjoyed quite acomfortable existence."

  "Arrested?" Brad questioned.

  "No, he slipped away before Mr. Keeler could call police. I understand nodamage was done to the property. He easily could have set the place onfire though."

  "Say, when do we eat?" demanded Midge, impatiently. "The
sun's gettinglow."

  "We can stop anywhere," Mr. Hatfield said. "Look for a suitable place."

  "How about the one we used last time?" suggested Chips. "It will save usclearing the ground."

  The other Cubs shared Chip's impatience, so a little farther on, a haltwas called. While Brad and Dan built a fire, Mr. Hatfield set up areflector oven which he had made from a square five-gallon oil can.

  "Pretty fancy, aren't we?" Red said admiringly. "What are we eating?"

  "Biscuits, fried eggs and bacon. How does it sound?"

  "Swell!" Red answered, smacking his lips. "Just lead me to it."

  "Lead you to it, like fun!" snorted Brad. "You're gonna help stir up thebiscuits, not have 'em served to you golden brown on a tin plate!"

  "Me? Make biscuits? I don't know how."

  "You can learn," the Den Chief assured him. "Nothing to it when you usebiscuit mix. You just add water and stir."

  While the other Cubs gathered wood, he showed Red how to mix the biscuitsand drop them evenly on a metal sheet.

  "Each Cub can cook his own bacon and eggs," Brad said, producing a sheetof tinfoil. "Shape 'em into little pans, and fry the bacon just enough tomake a little grease. Then drop in the eggs. You can use the crinkledfoil for a plate too, and not have to wash a dish."

  "What a brain! What a brain!" This praise came from Midge, who aboveeverything else hated to wash dishes.

  Soon the wood had burned down to coals. As the reflector oven heated up,Mr. Hatfield tested it, and told Red he could put in the biscuits.

  "It won't be long now, boys," he said. "While we're waiting for thebiscuits to bake, I wish a couple of you would go for some more water.Try that first house down the road."

  Rather than stand around, all the boys except Red took their canteens andtrudged off. The latter remained with Mr. Hatfield to keep an eye on thebiscuits.

  "They're rising just right," the Cub leader said, presently peeking intothe oven. "Another five minutes and they'll be golden brown."

  "They sure smell good," Red declared, sniffing the air. "I could eat adozen of 'em myself."

  "We only allowed three for each Cub," Mr. Hatfield laughed. "The fire'sburning out though. We need more wood."

  The Cubs had not gathered enough. So after taking another glance at thebiscuits to be certain they would not burn, Mr. Hatfield and Red set offtogether to find a few sticks.

  Suitable wood was not to be found close to the camp. Already the Cubs hadgathered this. Compelled to seek farther away, the Cub leader and Redconsumed more time than they had intended in gathering sticks.

  "Let's get back," Mr. Hatfield advised. "If we let those biscuits burn,the boys will mob us."

  As the two returned to the campfire, they met the Cubs trotting in withtheir filled canteens.

  "Hey!" yelled Dan. "Aren't those biscuits done yet?"

  "They should be," Mr. Hatfield answered. "Start your eggs frying, boys,so everything will come off the fire at the same time. Brad will show youwhat to do."

  "How about those biscuits?" Red said anxiously. "They've been in the ovena long time."

  "Not too long," replied Mr. Hatfield. "We want 'em a nice deep brown. ButI'll take a quick look."

  Eager for a peek themselves, the Cubs gathered around.

  Mr. Hatfield opened the oven. A blast of heat struck the Cubs full intheir faces.

  "Why, what happened to 'em?" Dan demanded in astonishment. "Where arethose wonderful biscuits you were bragging about?"

  The oven was empty. Gone were the biscuits and likewise the metal sheetupon which they had been baked!