Dan Carter and the Money Box Read online

  CHAPTER 7 The Last Straw

  Discouragement weighed heavily upon Dan and Brad as they left Mr.Merrimac's home.

  The bakery owner had been their No. 1 prospect and without a donationfrom him they knew the Den never could make a good showing in thesolicitation.

  "Mr. Hatfield gave us Mr. Merrimac's name because he thought we were thebest collectors," Brad said in disgust. "Well, we muffed it."

  "We caught him in a bad mood," Dan replied, equally sunk in gloom. "Doyou think the old cod really lost money as he claimed? Or was it justanother trick?"

  "Search me, Dan. It's a cinch three persons couldn't have lost that cash.The whole thing is fantastic."

  "I almost wish we hadn't found that box, Brad."

  "So do I. It's going to make a peck of trouble. Well, what do we do now?Report to Mr. Hatfield?"

  "May as well. He ought to know about Mr. Merrimac's claim, even if itshould prove phoney."

  The boys found the Cub leader in his front yard, raking leaves. Leaningon his rake, he listened attentively to their account of what hadhappened at Mr. Merrimac's place.

  "It's a bad break not getting the donation," he said. "But don't take ittoo hard. Mr. Merrimac may come through later on. As for his claim thatthe money box belongs to him--well, I don't know what to think aboutthat."

  "It's probably just another fake claim," Brad declared.

  "Was he able to tell the amount of money in the box?"

  "He said it was several thousand," Brad answered.

  "You didn't ask him to be more definite or to furnish a description ofthe money box?"

  "No, Dan and I were too disgusted. We left as quickly as we could."

  "Mr. Merrimac probably will come to see me," the Cub leader responded.Picking up a basket of leaves, he started with it toward the street.

  Just then a black police car pulled up at the curb. Mr. Hatfield put downthe basket and went to meet the officers.

  "We have a report that you're holding a box of money found by some of theCub Scouts at a church," Sergeant Billings addressed Mr. Hatfield.

  "That's right. Come into the house and I'll turn it over to you. Firstthough, meet Dan Carter and Brad Wilber. They're the ones who found thebox."

  "Dan did," Brad corrected. "I just happened to be around."

  "How are you, boys?" Sergeant Billings said heartily.

  He began to pose friendly but pointed questions which Brad and Dananswered to the best of their abilities.

  "Don't worry about finding the rightful owner of the box," he reassuredthem. "We'll get to the bottom of it in short order. By the way, youdidn't happen to find a blackjack or a pair of brass knuckles along sideof the box did you?"

  "Oh, no, sir!" Dan returned, surprised by the question.

  "It might be smart to let that impression get around," the sergeantchuckled. "Catch on?"

  "You mean if folks thought that by claiming the box they would tanglewith the law, they might not be so quick to say it was theirs?" Braddemanded.

  "That's the idea, kid."

  "I don't want the Cubs to become involved any further in this matter,"Mr. Hatfield said, speaking decisively. "That's why I called police. Iwant to be rid of the box and all responsibility."

  "Fair enough," rejoined Sergeant Billings. "Just lead me to the box. Ican't guarantee though, that you won't have the newspaper reporters onyour neck when this story gets out. I'll have to make a report, youknow."

  "I suppose so," Mr. Hatfield admitted, leading the way to the house."Well, keep the Cubs out of it as much as possible."

  In the living room the Cub leader offered the sergeant a chair and thenexcused himself.

  "I have the money box hidden upstairs," he said. "Wait and I'll fetchit."

  Mr. Hatfield was gone a long while. During his absence, Dan and Brad toldSergeant Billings everything they knew about the money box. They evenmentioned the mysterious face at the window, and gave the officer thelicense number of the car which they thought had followed Mr. Hatfield'sauto on the night of the storm.

  "Your imagination probably tricked you on that one," the sergeant said,noting down the number. "But I'll check anyhow."

  "By the way, have you heard whether or not that ward of the court, JackPhillips ever was caught?" Brad inquired.

  "We've been looking for him," the sergeant replied. "So far he's eludedus. Jack is slippery, but we'll get him back in time."

  "How old is he?" Dan asked curiously.

  "About twelve--maybe a bit younger. He's wise, though, in the ways of theworld. We think he's still around here unless he hitch-hiked to anothertown. He may be hiding out in the marsh or along the waterfront."

  "How does he manage to live?" Brad questioned.

  "Oh, Jack's an old hand at getting along. The boy has good stuff in him,but he's made us a lot of trouble. He can't stand confinement."

  While the Cubs talked, Fred Hatfield came into the house. He too had beencalling on building fund prospects and reported that he had obtainedpledges totaling nearly one hundred and twenty dollars.

  "You did better than we did," Brad congratulated him.

  "Just luck," Fred returned modestly. "Tomorrow I'll probably get a lot ofturn-downs. Say, where's Dad?"

  "That's what were wondering," Dan replied, glancing at the wall clock.Already Mr. Hatfield had been upstairs more than ten minutes.

  "He went after the money box," Brad explained. "I don't know what'skeeping him."

  At that moment, Mr. Hatfield came hurriedly down the stairway.

  The Cubs saw at once that he did not have the money box.

  "Fred," his father said, pausing on the bottom step, "you didn't by anychance dig into the lower drawer of my desk?"

  "Why, no, father," his son answered in surprise.

  "Then the worst has happened. The money box is gone!"

  "Gone?" Fred demanded. "How could it be?"

  "That's what I can't understand. Unless perhaps your mother put it awaysomewhere."

  Mr. Hatfield went quickly to the kitchen to talk to his wife. However, ashe had feared, she had not removed the box from the desk drawer.

  During the conversation, Sergeant Billings had listened without comment.He now asked to inspect the desk in the upstairs study.

  "You didn't have the box in a very safe place," he commented."Apparently, the drawer wasn't even locked."

  "It has no key," Mr. Hatfield admitted. "I thought the box would be safeenough until I could turn it over to police."

  "How many persons have been in the house since you brought the box here?"the sergeant questioned.

  "Well, quite a few. All of the Cubs except Midge. Then Mr. Wilson came."

  "And Mr. Brakschmidt," added Brad. "He didn't go upstairs though andneither did Mr. Wilson."

  "No one did except the members of my own family," Mr. Hatfield saidearnestly. "I know that neither Fred nor my wife touched the box. Butwhat became of it?"

  "How much did it contain?"

  "Two thousand, one hundred and seventy-five dollars."

  Sergeant Billings whistled softly. "That's a pretty stiff loss. You'resure the box really is lost?"

  Mr. Hatfield regarded him in amazement.

  "I can't find it, if that's what you mean," he said stiffly. "Or are youimplying--?"

  "Well, it looks sort of funny," the sergeant replied. "You say the boxhas been taken, yet there's no evidence anyone broke into the house. Whoknew where you hid the box?"

  "Only myself."

  "I guessed where you put it," interposed Fred.

  "But you didn't touch the box?" his father asked.

  "No, of course not."

  "I assume full responsibility," Mr. Hatfield said in a harassed tone. "Iswear I thought the box would be safe here--"

  "I'll make a report," Sergeant Billings broke in. "Likely you'll becalled to headquarters for further questioning."

  "I've already told you everything I know about the matter."


  "Yeah," grunted the sergeant. He arose to leave.

  Mr. Hatfield was thoroughly annoyed by the other's tone.

  "See here," he said, "I hope you understand I'm not trying to concealanything. Why should I?"

  "Two thousand a hundred and seventy-five dollars," the sergeant repeatedthoughtfully. "A tidy little sum."

  "You're not implying that I'm trying to keep it?"

  "It's not up to me to figure out motives," Sergeant Billings shrugged. "Ionly ask questions and turn in the reports. If I were in your shoesthough, I'd try to produce that box. Otherwise, we'll have to do a littleinvestigating."