The Cubs were not surprised to learn that Pat had told around that the Purple Five had been cheated out of victory on a technicality.
“They’ll be laying for us next game,” Brad warned the boys of Den 2 one night as they practiced at the church gymnasium. “If we want to win, we’ve got to improve our teamwork.”
The Cubs had worked out several new plays which seemed to go fairly well. Chub however, could not get the hang of them. The others noticed that his mind never seemed entirely on the game. A ball would be tossed in his direction, and he’d seem aware of it only after it had shot past him.
“Chub, you’ve got to wake up!” Brad scolded him.
“I—I’m sorry,” Chub apologized.
He’d try harder for awhile, and then his mind would wander again. The Cubs felt sorry for him because obviously he meant well. Chub though, was a total loss to the team, even as a substitute.
“Something’s bothering Chub,” Brad confided to Dan. “He’s worrying about things, and he’ll never be any good until he gets it off his chest. Any idea what’s wrong?”
“It may be because he hasn’t any father or mother,” Dan replied. “I’ve tried to talk to him now and then, but he never opens up.”
The next few days were so delightful that the Cubs abandoned basketball for hikes. They decorated their clubroom with cornshocks and pumpkins obtained from a nearby farm.
Fred made cardboard witches for the walls, and in the work forgot his disappointment over loss of the cardboard fort.
All the Cubs fashioned Halloween costumes and laid plans for another party. They took care however, that Pat and his cronies should not learn of the affair.
Regularly, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, the Purple Five practiced thirty minutes in the church gymnasium. The Bay Shore area boys now were much better behaved and quieter while in the building.
Nevertheless, the Cubs could not forget past actions. By agreement no mention was made of the destroyed cardboard fort. The conviction remained however, that Pat and his gang were responsible for it as well as the damage to the old Christian Church. Nor had they forgotten the ice cream freezer episode or Pat’s unfair demand for half of the game receipts.
The Bay Shore boys were treated politely, but none of the Cubs warmed to them. Furthermore, while the Purple Five team was in the building, the clubroom always was kept locked.
“You guys don’t trust us much, do you?” Pat demanded of Dan one afternoon on the final practice session before the coming Friday game.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Dan avoided the issue.
“Then why do you lock the clubroom? So we can’t look in?”
“Our cardboard fort was wrecked, Pat. Fred had worked weeks on it. We don’t want anything like that to happen again.”
Pat bristled, and color flamed into his cheeks. “You think we did it?”
“I didn’t say so, did I?”
“No, but you’re acting mighty suspicious. I’m tired of being treated as if we have to be watched all the time. Believe me, if we wanted to do mischief, we could tear this place apart! But we got other plans for Halloween. Not a silly party either.”
Pat’s boastful manner instantly convinced Dan that the Purple Five team was planning mischief, come October 31. He asked a few casual questions, hoping to draw the other boys out.
“You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?” Pat teased. He looped a ball through the basket, and called to his teammates. “Come on, guys! Let’s move out of here! We got some important business to talk over.”
Dan was disturbed by the hints the other had dropped. Undoubtedly, the Bay Shore boys intended to commit Halloween pranks. He only hoped the Cubs would not be blamed.
He heard no more of the matter and had nearly forgotten about it when Halloween finally came. The Den 2 boys had arranged a party at the Holloway home.
Everyone dressed in costume and the affair was a great success. Fred, as usual, won first prize, fixing himself up as an armored knight.
Dan wore an ordinary clown suit. The other Cubs came as ghosts or in over-sized clothes borrowed from their parents.
The party broke up at an early hour.
“No mischief tonight, boys,” Mr. Hatfield warned as he dismissed the group. “But then, I know I can trust Cubs to behave themselves always.”
Several of the Den 2 members were riding home with their parents. Dan and Brad had come alone. Mr. Hatfield offered to drive them home.
“No need to,” Brad turned down the offer. “It’s only a step. We don’t mind walking.”
“How about you, Chub?” the Cub leader inquired.
“We’ll see him home,” Dan volunteered. “It’s not much out of our way.”
Still wearing their costumes, the boys started away from the Holloway home. In this neighborhood, the streets were quiet. Some distance away, they could hear the dinging of a cowbell.
“Nice night for the witches to howl!” Dan said jokingly.
“No pranks for us,” Brad replied. “We’re going home and to bed.”
Enroute to Chub’s home, the boys met two groups of masked children returning from parties. Lights blazed on residential porches, and a few small children were ringing doorbells, demanding: “Trick or Treat?”
“Kid stuff,” Dan remarked. “I’m glad we’re too old for that silliness.”
Chub was left safely at his doorstep. Brad and Dan then turned off toward their own neighborhood. As they approached the old Christian Church, unconsciously they began to walk faster.
Suddenly, they were startled to hear a rush of footsteps in the direction of the old deserted building.
“What’s that?” Brad demanded, halting to listen.
“Sounds like a gang of kids, running,” Dan instantly decided. “Toward the church too! Golly, I hope—”
“The Cubs would be sunk if any more damage is done there,” Brad finished for him.
“Let’s find out what’s happening.”
“Okay, Dan. We’ll have to move fast though.”
Breaking into a run, the two headed directly for the church. As they approached from the front they could see no one on the grounds. A nearly full moon, rising through the bare branches of a scraggly tree, cast a soft, weird glow over the earth.
“I can’t see anyone—” Brad began, only to break off.
The two listeners had heard a door slam. They were certain the sound had come from the rear of the old building.
Noiselessly, Brad and Dan moved around the hedge to approach the church from the river side.
“Look!” Dan directed the other’s attention.
A group of five or six boys clustered at the rear of the building, near an open coal chute. The sound which the Cubs had taken for the slamming of a door, had, in reality been the banging of the chute cover.
“It’s Pat and his bunch!” Dan recognized them.
“Bent on trouble too! They’re going into that building, and we’ll get the blame.”
As the pair crept cautiously nearer, they could hear Pat giving orders to his followers.
“I’ll go first,” he told them. “Then the rest of you follow. All but Pete, who’s to stay here and keep watch. We’ll get that bell from the belfry and dump it on main street!”
He disappeared feet first down the chute.
“The belfry bell!” Dan whispered in alarm. “This is the worst yet! If Pat gets by with it, the Cubs are almost sure to be blamed. What are we going to do, Brad? How can we stop ’em?”
CHAPTER 14
THE BELFRY BELL
Brad could not provide a ready answer to Dan’s demand for a means of stopping the Bay Shore boys in their Halloween prank.
The boy called Pete had been left on guard at the entrance to the coal chute. Pat and at least five others now were inside the empty building.
“We’re two against six,” Brad muttered. “We can’t stop ’em, Dan.”
“But to let them take the bell! The trustees are almost certain to blame the Cubs. If they’d only come here now and learn the truth!”
Brad had been thinking fast. “Our best bet is to telephone Mr. Hatfield and have him call the police,” he whispered. “It will take ’em a few minutes to get that bell down. They aren’t going to unfasten it half as easy as they think!”
“It will weigh a ton too! Say, maybe we will have time enough to nab ’em!”
“You dash for a ’phone, Dan,” Brad advised in a whisper. “Sneak around behind the hedge and don’t let that kid, Pete, see you. I’ll keep watch until you get back.”
“I’ll hurry as fast as I can.”
Dan started to creep away. He had taken less than three steps when a sudden commotion inside the church brought him up sharply.
From the interior of the building, issued an eerie scream.
Then utter confusion! He could hear Pat and the other Bay Shore boys gasping and yelling as they evidently pushed and shoved one another down the iron stairway which led from the belfry.
Dan couldn’t guess what had happened. Had one of the boys fallen on the stairs? But surely that wouldn’t have been enough to have caused such panic.
As he hesitated, wondering whether to wait or hasten on to find a telephone, the intruders began to pour out of the building.
Pat was the first to crawl through the narrow opening.
“What happened?” Pete demanded. “Where’s the bell?”
“Bell?” Pat laughed hysterically. “That bell can stay up there forever! The church is haunted!”
The other Bay Shore boys came out of the coal chute as fast as they could squeeze through. Without even waiting for their buddies, they started on a run away from the building.
Pat and Pete stayed until the last member of their gang had reached safety. Hastily, they slammed down the door of the coal chute.
At that moment, from overhead, came the faint tap-tap-tap of the church bell. It was a muted sound but one which could not have been caused by the light breeze which was blowing.
“Hear that?” Pat muttered fearfully. “I’m getting away from this place—fast!”
He fled, leaving Pete to bound after him. In another moment, Dan and Brad were the only two left in the churchyard.
“What d’you know?” Brad chuckled, recovering from the rapidity of the flight.
“We lost our chance to trap ’em inside the building,” Dan said regretfully, returning to stand beside the Den Chief at the coal chute opening. “What do you suppose happened in there?”
“I wish I knew. Want to go inside and find out?”
“Say, are you kidding?”
“Sure, I am,” Brad chuckled. “You couldn’t drag me into that building tonight. All the same, I’m mighty curious. Pat and his boys must have seen or heard something that completely unnerved them.”
“Pat’s no coward either.”
“No, it would take plenty to jolt him, Dan. It was more than just a tapping bell.” Brad gazed thoughtfully up at the dark belfry.
Dan shivered, feeling ill at ease. “That bell’s enough to give me the jim-jams,” he confessed. “This isn’t the first time we’re heard it. How do you explain it, Brad? You don’t think the church could be—”
“Haunted? Say, be your age!”
“I know it’s silly,” Dan admitted, sheepishly. “But so many queer things have happened here.”
“Man-made queer things.”
“What do you mean by that, Brad?” Dan quickly caught him up.
The older boy, however, did not answer. He moved back a few paces so that he could obtain a better view of the shadowy belfry.
“See anything?” Dan asked, following him nervously.
“Nothing.”
“We didn’t imagine the tapping of that bell, Brad.”
“No, it sounded all right. And it didn’t ring by itself either.”
“Then you think someone may be up there—right now?”
“Could be.”
“Gosh, it scares me to think about it,” Dan muttered. “Even now, someone might be watching us, and we couldn’t see him.”
“Don’t get yourself worked up,” Brad advised in a matter-of-fact voice. “We’re safe enough here so long as we don’t go inside the building.”
The boys circled the church, studying it from every angle. Now that Pat and the others had fled, it was difficult to believe that anything ever had been amiss. The old building appeared as deserted as on the day when the Cubs first had seen it.
“At any rate, we know how Pat and his bunch got inside the church that first time,” Dan commented. “Through the coal chute.”
Both he and Dan felt a trifle discouraged over the outcome of their little adventure. With half a break they might have caught the Bay Shore boys inside the building! Now, it seemed they were no closer than ever to proving the innocence of the Cubs.
“No use to telephone Mr. Hatfield now, or to call the police,” Dan remarked, sunk in gloom. “We muffed it right, Brad.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say so.” The older boy was quite cheerful. “We learned quite a bit. And we can be sure of one thing. I don’t think Pat and his pals will come back here for awhile.”
“Not after the way they poured out of that building.” Dan grinned at the recollection. “I sure wish we could have had a picture! Even Pat was scared half out of his wits!”
“Hearing that bell tap gave me quite a start myself,” Brad admitted frankly. “I wish I knew what it was that scared those kids. They must have seen something—not a ghost either!”
“Want to come back here sometime to investigate?” Dan proposed, half jokingly. “When it’s daylight, I mean?”
“Maybe I will,” the Den Chief replied. “I intend to talk this over with Mr. Hatfield. If he thinks we wouldn’t run afoul of the trustees, I may try to get in there again to see what I can learn.”
CHAPTER 15
MEASLES
Halloween was two days gone and no further investigation had been made of the old church by the river.
Brad had gone to Mr. Hatfield’s home, fully intending to tell him of seeing Pat and his pals flee in panic from the building.
He never had been able to make his report. Mr. Hatfield, it developed, had been called out of the city on an important business trip. In his absence, Den 2 was under the direction of Mr. Holloway.
The Cub leader, Brad learned, expected to be back in Webster City in time for the Friday night basketball game with the Purple Five.
“We really shouldn’t play that outfit, knowing what we do about ’em,” the Den Chief confided to Dan. “Think we should tell the other Cubs what we know?”
“It wouldn’t do any good, unless we cancel the game,” Dan replied after thinking the matter over. “Mr. Hatfield seemed to want us to treat Pat and his bunch with good will. So I suppose, if he were here, he’d advise us to go ahead with the game just as if nothing had happened.”
“Then we won’t say anything about the church affair,” Brad decided. “It would only stir up bad feeling. The Cubs have it in for Pat as it is—and for good reasons too!”
Though the Den Chief had tried to keep his feelings from the younger boys, he was not too happy about the coming game. Pat and the Bay Shore boys smarted under the first defeat they had suffered from the Cubs. The second game in the series might be bitterly fought.
As for trying to pin evidence on Pat that he and his gang were responsible for the trouble at the Christian Church, he scarcely knew where to start. Any accusation he or Dan might make, would, of course, be denied.
“How about going out there again and trying to get in?” Dan proposed.
“Let’s wait until Mr. Hatfield gets back,” Brad turned him down. “With the accusation standing against us that we once broke into the place, we’ve got to be cautious. If anyone should see us there, they might misunderstand.”
So matters stood. Basketball practice went on each night after school. And outwardly at least, the Cubs were friendly with the Purple Five.
On the Friday set for the game, the Den 2 boys called a 15-minute practice session after school in the gymnasium.
“We’re only going to shoot a few baskets and run through a couple of team plays,” Brad instructed the group. “I want to be sure you fellows have it down pat. We’ll run through Play B first. Chips, get in there, and start it off.”
Chips, who slouched on a bench, moved sluggishly.
“You’ll have to get more pep than that unless we want to be licked tonight,” Brad said, passing him the ball. “Say, what’s the matter with you anyhow?”
“I feel awful,” Chips admitted in a weak voice. “Sort of sickish all over.”
“Look at his face!” Dan directed.
Chips’ cheeks and forehead were flushed. Even more alarming, the back of his neck was blotched with little red spots.
“I itch too,” Chips said miserably.
The Cubs who had clustered about him, backed hastily away.
“O’my gosh,” Brad groaned. “You’re coming down with something, for sure. Get home as fast as you can, Chips, and into bed! Have your mother call a doctor.”
“What about the game?”
“Let us worry about that. You beat it home.”
Within an hour, the Cubs knew the worst. Chips had a mild case of the measles! He would be out of the game and confined to his home for more than a week.
The Cubs were too discouraged even to discuss the situation. Chub now would have to go into the game as a forward. That meant that Dan would be shifted to guard, given the task of trying to hold Pat to a minimum of baskets.
“We’re sunk,” he admitted privately to Brad as they laced their tennis shoes in the dressing room.
“Probably,” the Den Chief agreed. “Let’s do our best though. And if we’re licked, let’s take it like good sports.”
An even larger crowd had gathered in the gymnasium than for the first game of the series. Fred jubilantly reported that despite a poor advance ticket sale, thirty-seven dollars had been taken in at the door.
“One man paid a dollar,” he told the Cubs. “Said he wanted to help with the organization’s defense fund.”
“And we have to give Pat and his chislers half of the receipts!” Red remarked bitterly. “It’s unfair!”
In glancing over the audience, Dan noticed many neighbors and other persons he knew. However, on the front row he observed a tall, thin man rather poorly dressed, whose face he did not recognize.
“Who is he?” Dan asked Brad, pointing out the stranger.
“No one I ever saw before. I don’t think he was here last game.”
“See how he keeps watching Chub,” Dan directed the other’s gaze. “I guess it must be because the kid’s so unsure of himself.”
“Chub does his best, Dan.”
“Oh, I know that. I wasn’t criticising him. It’s not his fault he was thrust into this game.”
The Cubs were convinced that without Chips to bolster their team, they would be whitewashed. However, each player was determined not to give up without a struggle.
Sharp at seven o’clock the whistle sounded and the game began. The Cubs were heartened by the arrival, albeit late, of Mr. Hatfield. Having come directly from a train, he still had his suitcase with him.
Both teams played cautiously at the start of the game. Pat and the other members of his team evidently were determined not to be tripped up on rules a second time.
To avoid personal fouls, the Purple Five boys quite outdid themselves. Once when Pat brushed hard against Dan as they both rushed for the ball, the Bay Shore boy actually muttered: “Excuse me, I didn’t mean to hit you.”
Surprisingly, with roughness eliminated, the Cubs held their own fairly well. Pat made two baskets, and then was unable to score as Dan kept hard on him.
Repeatedly, the Cubs had chances for baskets themselves. Team plays worked well, even without Chips. But Chub fumbled time after time at the critical moment. Once he shot and the ball hung on the rim, only to drop outside.
The half finally ended: 6 to 2 in favor of the Purple Five.
“If we only had you in there as forward, Dan,” Brad said regretfully. “Chub tries, but he just can’t find the basket.”
During the second half, Fred was put in as a substitute for Chub. He and Midge, between them, managed three baskets. In the last quarter, Dan from far down the floor made a wild pass for the netting. The ball looped high and with a swishing sound, dropped cleanly through the mesh.
That brought the score: 6 to 6. Likewise, it aroused the Purple Five. Bearing down, they began to play roughly again. Foul after foul was chalked against the Bay Shore players. Each time, when a free throw was allowed, the Cubs’ failed to make the single point.
Pat had become chained lightning itself. He eluded Dan and time after time dropped the ball close, if not through the basket. When the final whistle blew, the score stood: 10 to 6 in favor of the Purple Five.
“I tried, but I couldn’t hold Pat down,” Dan confessed, as he sank down on a bench to catch his breath.
“You did fine, Dan,” Mr. Hatfield said, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “I was proud of you. And of all the Cubs. Except for a few minutes toward the end, it was a good, clean game.”
The Cubs hid their disappointment over loss of the game. They congratulated the Purple Five on the victory, and Dan made a point of speaking to Pat.
“You’re just too good,” he said with a grin. “It takes a better guard than Dan Carter to hold you.”
Pat seemed surprised by the praise. “You were pretty fair yourself,” he replied. “I missed a lot of baskets because of good guarding.”
“Chips may be back for the third and deciding game of the series,” Dan went on. “Now that both teams have a victory, that contest should be a honey.”
Hot cocoa was being served the Cubs upstairs in the church dining room. Mr. Hatfield invited Pat and his teammates to join the other boys.
“Thanks,” Pat answered, looking rather embarrassed. “I-I guess we won’t. Next time, maybe.”
“Then we’ll count out your share of the receipts—”
“Skip it,” Pat growled. He moved quickly away.
In leaving the gymnasium, Dan saw Chub talking to the strange man who earlier had drawn his attention. As he came up, the two separated. Chub waited for him, his face troubled.
“Anything wrong, Chub?” Dan inquired.
Chub shook his head. “Only that I lost the game for the Cubs.”
“No such thing,” Dan said cheerfully. “Was it your fault Chips came down with the measles? Anyhow, I thought you played your very best game.”
“Did you?” Chub brightened. “I tried awfully hard.”
“Anything else bothering you?”
“Well, that man—he was asking me such funny questions.”
“I noticed him during the game,” Dan returned. “He paid a lot of attention to you.”
“It gave me a queer feeling, talking to him.”
“Queer? How so?”
Chub shrugged and could not explain. “He kept calling me Charles for one thing, just as if he knew me well. I never saw him before, but I had the strangest feeling as if I’d really known him a long while.”
“Did he tell you his name?”
“No, but he asked me a dozen questions. He wanted to know where I lived, the school I attended—everything. The last question was the funniest of all. He said: ‘Chub, are you happy here in Webster City?’”
“What did you tell him?”
“I didn’t answer. You came up just then, and he went off.”
“Don’t let it bother you, Chub,” Dan said. “The guy must have been a screw-ball.”
“He was real nice, Dan. I—I liked him ever so much.”
“Well, don’t keep your mind on it,” Dan said, linking arms with the boy and pulling him toward the stairway. “Come on, let’s have some hot cocoa.”
Chub went willingly enough. In fact, as they entered the dining room together, he failed to notice that the stranger still loitered in the outside vestibule.
Dan however, had seen him. He observed too that the man’s gaze was following Chub’s every move.
“Who can he be?” he speculated. “Why is he so interested in Chub?”
Dan gave himself a mental memo to try during the next few days to learn more about the stranger. Meanwhile, why let it bother him? Following his advice to Chub, he brushed the matter entirely from his mind, and joined the other Cubs at the cocoa table.
CHAPTER 16
THE STRANGER
It was reassuring to learn that Chips had a very light case of measles. The Cubs, of course, were not permitted to see him. But Mrs. Davis reported to the den that her son could not be kept in bed and that his spots rapidly were disappearing.
Knowing that they all had been exposed to the disease, the Cubs kept their fingers crossed. Days passed however, and no other den member came down sick.
“Chips may be able to play in that last game with the Purple Five,” Dan remarked one day as he and Brad walked to the public library together. “Think we have a chance to win?”
“With Chips, yes. We need him badly though.”
“Chub never will make a good player that’s for sure,” Dan sighed. “I can’t figure out that kid, Brad. He likes being a Cub, but somehow he doesn’t catch on.”
“Not at basketball,” Brad admitted. “Something’s bothering him. Say, come to think of it, he hasn’t been at practice the last two nights.”
“Maybe he’s down with measles!”
“Never thought of that,” Brad admitted. “We ought to find out.”
The boys returned several books to the library and then decided to hike out to Chub’s place to inquire.
In response to their rap on the door the Widow Lornsdale came to admit them. She assured them that Chub was quite well, though not at home just then.
“He may be off somewhere wandering in the woods,” she added. “Poor lad! He seems so lonesome and unhappy.”
“Doesn’t he like being a Cub?” Dan inquired.
“Oh, indeed, he enjoys the organization very much. You know, though, that Chub’s lot hasn’t been an easy one.”
Brad and Dan had no knowledge whatsoever of the boy’s past. Remembering Mr. Hatfield’s admonition not to ask questions, they never had tried to pry into his background.
“I’ve done what I could for Chub,” the widow resumed. “He’s a very good boy and deserves parents. Since Juvenile Court authorities placed him with me, I’ve had no trouble with him whatsoever.”
Dan and Brad were startled by the reference to Juvenile Court. Was it possible, they wondered, that Chub had at some time been a delinquent? It hardly seemed possible that anyone so shy and reserved could have given the authorities difficulty.
Thinking back, Dan recalled that the Juvenile Court director had spoken to Chub when the Cubs were touring the courthouse. Other referees there had seemed to know him too. Yet Chub never once had mentioned knowing any of the officials.
“Won’t you boys come inside and wait?” the widow politely invited them. “I can’t tell you when Chub will return though.”
“Just tell him we were here,” Brad directed. “We wanted to be sure he wasn’t down with measles. Tell him we’ll be counting on him for the game Friday night.”
“I’ll give him your message,” the widow promised.
Dusk was coming on as Brad and Dan turned homeward. The old Christian Church, as usual, drew them like a magnet. Though they might have chosen a shorter route, deliberately they selected the road which ran past the deserted building.
“We never did learn what scared Pat and his bunch Halloween night,” Brad remarked, staring at the dark, unwinking windows.
“I tried to talk to him about it,” Dan admitted. “He closed up like a clam.”
Since that night when the two nearly had caught the Bay Shore boys in the building, Brad had discussed the matter only once with Mr. Hatfield. He never had given the Cub leader full information, for their conversation had been interrupted by the arrival of a third party.
“I sure wish I knew what it was that scared Pat half out of his wits,” he remarked meditatively. “For half a cent—”
“You’re not thinking of going in there?” Dan demanded.
“No-o, not now, anyway. I’d like to know, though, if the door to the coal chute still is unlocked. Anyone can get in and out of that building at will, and yet the Cubs are blamed for any damage done!”
Cutting across the church lawn, the two circled around to the rear of the property. Brad checked the coal chute door.
“Still unlocked,” he reported in disgust.
Dan had been trying the doors. One which opened into a rear corridor, swung inward at his touch.
“This is the limit!” he exploded. “Why any amount of damage could be done here! The place is wide open.”
“Yet Terry puts out he’s such a good caretaker! How those church trustees can claim to have any case against the Cubs is beyond me! It’s queer though—”
“About the place being open? Old Terry locked the building up tight as a drum that first day he was here with the trustees. I saw him check the doors myself.”
“Do you suppose someone else could have a key?” Brad speculated. “That is, someone besides the trustees?”
Dan did not answer. He stood peering in through the door he had shoved open. The old building was as quiet as a tomb.
“Brad—”
“Yeah?”
“This would be the perfect chance to make a last check of the place.”
“We were in the building once, Dan.”
“Not in the belfry. I’d like to find out what makes that bell tap so mysteriously. If we could learn the answer, it might clear up the case against the Cubs.”
“And if we were caught, or even seen, what then?”
“That’s a chance we’d have to take, Brad.”
“I don’t think Mr. Hatfield would like it,” the Den chief said, deeply troubled. “I’m as curious as you are, but it’s trespassing.”
“The Cubs already are in the soup,” Dan argued. “Unless we dig up some evidence that will help us, the trustees will carry out their threat to file suit.”
“Yeah, you’re right about that,” Brad acknowledged. “If you want to wait here, I’ll make a fast foray in to see what I can learn.”
“Oh, no, you don’t!” Dan retorted. “It was my idea, so I’m the one to go in.”
“We’ll both go,” Brad decided suddenly. “It’s safer that way. Let’s be quick about it, and cautious.”
Having made up their minds, the boys stepped inside the hallway, closing the door behind them. The silence of the empty building was disturbing. Into their thoughts came a recollection that upon their last visit here, a door had been mysteriously locked.
Dan could feel his heart pounding against his ribs. He was scared, and unashamed of it.
Although it was still daylight, the musty church interior already was shrouded in shadow. Every cracked marble pillar stood out in the dim light as a fearful sentinel.
Dan nervously tested the door through which they had entered to make certain that it had not locked behind them.
Satisfied that the exit remained free, he then followed Brad deeper into the church.
A-tiptoe, the pair moved toward the iron stairway leading up to the belfry. The treads, they noted, were remarkably free of dust, though it lay heavy elsewhere. Cobwebs festooned other ironwork in the corridor.
Dan grasped the railing and began the steep ascent. His chest felt constricted. His breath became short, and he knew it wasn’t from exertion.
Mid-way up to the tower, the boy halted to listen. Brad, pressing close behind, also became alert.
Neither had heard any disturbing sound. Yet they both sensed that they would run into something, once they turned the next curve in the stairway.
Dan waited as long as he dared, and then crept on. Another step. Two, three, four.
Nearing the top now, he could feel a rush of cool air on his face.
Suddenly, Dan was brought up short. Above him, in the belfry, he had heard a scraping sound, as if a heavy object had been pulled across the floor.
Brad too, stiffened. Afraid even to whisper, the boys huddled together, listening. From time to time they could hear slight movements in the belfry. Once they thought someone gave a deep sigh.
Finally, Dan gathered his courage, and moved up another step. The bend in the stairway now lay directly ahead. Once that point was passed, they would have a clear view of the belfry.
With Brad at his elbow, Dan negotiated the last few feet. Stunned by what he saw, he gripped the iron railing with both hands.
The great bell hung in the turret, its dark clapper motionless. Beyond the hollow metallic vessel, almost at the edge of its flaring mouth, was a bed of blankets!
As Dan’s gaze fixed upon the bedding, he beheld the figure of a drowsing man. The fellow stirred sleepily, yawned and sat up.
It was then that both Cubs saw his face clearly. The occupant of the belfry was none other than the poorly dressed stranger who had paid such marked attention to Chub at the basketball game!
CHAPTER 17
A WITNESS
The gaunt looking man in the belfry seemed unaware of the Cubs’ presence on the iron stairway.
Wrapped in heavy blankets, he sat with his back to the rim of the big bell. His feet rested comfortably on a stone ledge of the tower. He gazed lazily into space, absorbed by his own reverie.
As Dan and Brad huddled together, watching, the man presently shifted his position. His shoulder brushed against the bell, causing the clapper to swing.
“Drat it!” the man exclaimed impatiently. He seized the striker to prevent it from sounding. Having steadied the bell, he again settled down into his blankets.
The mystery surrounding the old church now had been partially solved. Dan and Brad could not guess the stranger’s identity, but they were fairly certain he had been living in the belfry for days, perhaps weeks.
No imagination was required to explain the previous strange tapping of the bell and Pat’s terror on Halloween night. The Bay Shore boys likely had seen this man in the belfry and had mistaken him for a ghost!
Dan’s lips cracked into a grin at recollection of how Pat and his cronies had fled from the building. It really had been funny!
A bat came whirring down the well of the stairway, swooping close to the boys. Dan nearly lost his grasp on the spiral railing.
Involuntarily, he uttered a choked cry as he cringed back. Slight as was the sound, it reached the ears of the man in the belfry above.
Throwing off his blankets, he leaped to his feet.
“Who’s there?” he demanded, peering down.
The daylight above seemed to have blinded him, for he did not immediately see the two boys crouching in the semi-darkness. But they could not escape detection.
“Come up out of there!” he ordered, as he made out their shadowy forms. “A couple of kids, eh?”
Brad and Dan were nervous as they faced the stranger. The wind had blown his dark hair and he was unshaven. His eyes, however, had a friendly twinkle which slightly reassured them. They were relieved too, to note that he did not appear to be armed.
“Well, well! A couple of curious Cubs,” the man said cheerfully. “So you’ve finally caught me?”
Already Dan and Brad had lost their fear of the stranger. He was a man of early middle age, well-built and deeply tanned from having lived an outdoor life. Why, they wondered, had he chosen the church belfry for his home?
“You’ve been living here a long while, haven’t you?” Dan asked.
“I’ve been sleeping here off and on about three weeks,” the stranger shrugged. “This place, I’m telling you, isn’t very cozy now that the nights are so cold.”
“Couldn’t you have slept in the church, instead of in this bird roost?” Brad asked.