“Oh, some nights I do.” The stranger had gathered up his army blankets and was folding them neatly. “I stay up here because I like the cool, clean air. I can sleep anywhere. Learned it in the army. Up here I don’t have to keep an eye out all the time for that pest, Terry the Terrible.”
“The church caretaker?” Dan asked, smiling at the nickname.
“Sure, he’s always checking up, but never did tumble to the fact that he had a non-paying renter in his building.”
“Who are you anyhow?” Dan asked bluntly. “Didn’t we see you the other night at the basketball game?”
“I was there, son.”
“You didn’t tell us your name,” Dan reminded him.
“Didn’t I?” The man smiled as he ran a hand over his stubbly two-day-old beard. “Would you take me for a tramp?”
“Not exactly.” Dan scarcely knew how to classify the stranger. He spoke excellent English and had certain refinements that one usually did not associate with a tramp. Yet obviously, the fellow was without funds or he wouldn’t be living in the belfry.
“You must excuse my appearance,” the man said. “I haven’t had a chance to get to my barber yet today.”
Picking up a knapsack from the stone floor, he began to take out toilet articles—a razor, a mirror and shaving cream.
“You know you have no right to be living here,” Brad burst out. “How did you get in, anyhow? Through the coal chute?”
“I did the first time. After that, I used the door.”
“But this church was supposed to be locked. Terry checks on the place, or at least he’s supposed to.”
“The caretaker’s a nice old codger, but not very alert. If he had been, he’d never have left a key lying around.”
“You found it?” Brad questioned.
“It may not have been his,” the stranger admitted. “I came upon it the day I holed in here. Found it lying on a window sill, and discovered it unlocked one of the doors. So I’ve used it ever since. Convenient.”
“Terry probably was afraid to admit to the trustees that he had lost one of his keys!” Dan exclaimed. “Say, he could have cleared up a lot of things for our Den, if he’d acted right!”
No longer uneasy in the stranger’s presence, the two boys now plied him with eager questions. Did he live in the belfry because he had no money? How long had he been in Webster City?
“Don’t fire ’em at me so fast,” the man chuckled. “I haven’t been out of the army very long. I have a little money, but I’m trying to make it last until I get a certain job I’m after. Besides, I have another little matter here in Webster City—”
“Mr. Hatfield probably could help you find work,” Brad offered. “He’s our Cub leader.”
“I’ll find work all right, son. Fact is, I don’t plan on staying in this town very long. Not unless—”
“Unless what?” Brad caught him up.
“Well, it depends on a certain matter. My own private affairs.” Deliberately, the man changed the subject. “Tell me about the Cubs,” he requested. “Do you like the organization.”
“It’s the best in the world,” Dan said proudly.
“Don’t you have a boy in your den by the name of Chub?”
“Sure,” Dan agreed. “He’s new. You must know him. I saw you talking to him the other night at the basketball game.”
“He’s a lot like my own son. I had a boy once.”
“I see,” Dan murmured. He remained silent, reflecting that in appearance Chub might have been related to this stranger. Although the color of their hair and eyes was different, the contour of their faces was much the same. A coincidence, of course. But why was this man so interested in Chub?
“I don’t mind telling you about myself,” the man said after a long hesitation. “First of all, I have no criminal record. I’ve stolen nothing and broken no law, except that I’ve trespassed on this property.”
“You could be arrested for that,” Brad reminded him.
“I know,” the man admitted. “I figured that sooner or later I’d be caught here. I’ll move out today. I’d hoped to stay a little longer—but never mind.”
“You should tell us your name.”
“I should,” the man agreed. “Just call me Mr. Smith. When the right time comes, you’ll learn my true name.”
Brad and Dan were becoming more confused each moment. They liked the friendly stranger, but could not understand why he acted so mysteriously. If he had no criminal record, why should he hesitate to reveal his name?
“What happened Halloween night?” Dan asked curiously. “You must have played ghost.”
Mr. Smith laughed aloud at the recollection. “I heard those boys speaking up the stairway,” he revealed. “I waited until they were nearly in the belfry. Then I popped out with a blanket over my face. I made moaning sounds and wild gestures. Those kids bolted out of here like a streak of lightning.”
“From time to time, we’ve heard the bell tap,” Dan went on. “Were you responsible?”
“Afraid I’ll have to plead guilty. Once when the kids were here, I hit the bell by accident. The other times I tapped it on purpose. I didn’t want to scare the kids too much—only wanted to keep them from playing around here.”
Brad had been gazing thoughtfully at the stranger, thinking hard. If the man had lived in the belfry for three weeks, he must have observed a great many persons come and go. No wonder he seemed personally acquainted with the members of Den 2!
“Dan and I came here for a purpose today,” he suddenly disclosed. “You may have heard the talk in Webster City about the Cubs causing trouble.”
“I did pick up a few rumors.”
“We’ve been accused of doing a lot of damage here,” Brad went on. “It’s not true.”
“I know that to be a fact.”
“You do?” Brad, in his eagerness, grasped the stranger’s arm. “Could you help us? That is, what I’m trying to ask—did you see anything that would help us? Do you know who really did the damage?”
“I do,” the man returned. “I saw the Cubs come here that first day with their basketball. You kids smashed a window.”
“That was all the damage we did though,” Dan declared. “We were accused of doing a great deal more.”
“The Cub honor is at stake,” Brad added. “We’ll do anything to prove our innocence! We think we know who did the damage, but we have no proof.”
The stranger gazed down into the tense, worried faces of the Cubs. His smile was reassuring.
“I have a soft spot in my heart for the Cubs,” he said. “I want to help the organization.”
“Can you?” pleaded Dan. “Do you know the boys who damaged this place?”
“A gang showed up here about a half hour after the Cubs broke that window. They went through the place and really wrecked it. I saw their faces quite clearly. The ring leader, in particular, I could identify.”
“Pat Oswald?”
“I don’t know his name. He’s captain of the Purple Five basketball team.”
“That’s Pat!” Dan cried. He was so excited he no longer could control his voice. “Oh, Mr. Smith, you must come with us right away to see the church trustees! If only we can make them believe the truth, the Cubs’ name will be cleared!”
CHAPTER 18
A JOLT FOR PAT
Dan and Brad both were excited as the realization came to them that at least they had a means of establishing the innocence of the Cubs!
Until now, though they had been morally certain that Pat Oswald and his gang were the real culprits, they had known of no way to prove it.
But a witness miraculously had appeared! The mysterious “Mr. Smith” could, if he chose, speak the words which would clear Den 2. Would he agree to tell what he knew and had seen from the belfry?
“Will you come with us?” Dan repeated his plea. “Please, will you help the Cubs?”
“I’d like to, son,” the man replied.
“Then come with us now,” Brad urged. “We’ll take you directly to the church trustees.”
“Let’s not be too hasty,” Mr. Smith said. “If I tell what I know, I’ll have to explain how I happened to be roosting here. That could be awkward.”
“You want to help the Cubs, don’t you?” Dan pleaded. “Isn’t it only right that the truth should be known?”
“The truth will come out,” Mr. Smith promised the boys. “It’s a matter of timing though. I have to think of my own interests. I’m here in Webster City for a special purpose. If I should tell now that I’ve been living in this belfry—well, it might jeopardize everything I’m after.”
“Then you won’t go with us to the trustees?” Brad asked, bitterly disappointed.
“Let’s not put it that way, son. I want to help. I will too. I’m pretty sure I can identify the boys who damaged this church. The point is, I’d like to postpone the dramatic announcement for a day or two. Wouldn’t that be okay?”
“I suppose so,” Brad admitted reluctantly.
“I’m getting out of this place right away,” the stranger continued. “As soon as I can pick up mail at the Post Office, I’ll see a certain party. Then, it may be I’ll be in a position to help you. Or there may be a few days delay.”
Brad and Dan could not make up their minds that they were not being “stalled.” Mr. Smith seemed sincere, yet how could they be sure he merely was not trying to fool them. Once they parted from him, they might never see him again.
“How will we know where to find you?” Dan asked dubiously. “We can’t come back here or we’ll be accused of breaking in.”
“I can’t stay here any longer either,” the stranger declared. “Tell you what! When is your next basketball game?”
“Friday night,” Brad informed him.
“I’ll see you at the church gymnasium then. That will give me a few days to wind up my business here. Also, I’ll be on hand to identify that boy you call Pat.”
“Say, that might work out all right!” Dan exclaimed. “But how do we know you’ll keep your promise?”
“You’ll have to accept my word.”
Brad and Dan knew that they had no choice. They could not force the stranger to accompany them to see the church trustees. If they reported the man to police, undoubtedly he would disappear before they could return to his hide-out.
“I’ll not fail you,” the man promised, smiling as if he had read their thoughts. “Just one favor. You’re to tell no one that you have seen me here.”
“Not even our Cub leader?” Dan asked.
“No one.”
The two boys hesitated, reluctant to give such a binding promise.
“I’ll agree to come to the game Friday night,” Mr. Smith went on, “but only upon condition that you keep my secret until then. How about it?”
“I guess so,” Brad said unwillingly. Dan too nodded his head.
“Cub’s honor?”
“Cub’s honor,” Dan repeated. “We won’t tell anyone about seeing you here.”
“I know I can trust you boys,” the stranger said. He had gathered up a few belongings, and was stuffing them into a bag. “Don’t look so bewildered. Everything will be explained in good time.”
“There’s one thing I’d like to know right now,” Brad said.
“Shoot!”
“Well, maybe you can clear up the mystery of how the ice cream freezers were delivered to the Cubs. Did you see Pat Oswald and his bunch take them from the basement here?”
Mr. Smith busied himself polishing his scuffed shoes with an old rag. He kept smiling to himself, apparently enjoying his own secret.
“You know all about those freezers!” Brad accused.
“Tell us how they happened to be delivered to us!” Dan requested.
“Well, it was like this,” Mr. Smith said. “I overheard the Cubs talking about needing a couple of freezers. Maybe I shouldn’t have done it, but I dug ’em out of the basement here, and left them at the church.”
“You certainly put us in a spot,” Brad informed him. “We had a swell time making the ice cream, but Terry Treuhaft came looking for those freezers. He would have made a fearful fuss, only as it happened, we didn’t have ’em.”
“Someone—we suspect Pat and his bunch—had swiped them,” Dan explained, grinning at the recollection.
Now that the incident was half-way forgotten, his resentment at Pat gradually was fading.
“I shouldn’t have done it,” Mr. Smith admitted. “But no one was using those freezers. The Cubs needed ’em. So I thought I’d do them a friendly turn.”
“You’re certainly all for the Cubs,” Dan said, studying the stranger curiously. “Is it because of Chub?”
“Well, I took a shine to the youngster.”
Mr. Smith had finished picking up his toilet articles. Now that his hair was combed, his clothing brushed, he looked entirely presentable.
“You know,” Dan said abruptly, “you look a lot like Chub. Same eyes—hair.”
“Say, that’s right!” agreed Brad, startled by Dan’s observation. “Maybe you’re a relative!”
“Maybe I am,” the man admitted. “Maybe I’m a close relative.”
“Not his father?” Dan guessed.
“Yes, his father,” the stranger repeated, almost defiantly. “Anything wrong with it? You think he’d be ashamed if he knew the truth?”
“Why, no,” Dan stammered. “Why should he be ashamed of you?”
“Because I’ve neglected him all these years,” the man burst out. “Because I’m living in this belfry instead of in a decent house or hotel, the way other folks do. Because I have no job! Because if folks knew I was Chub’s father they’d say I was no good.”
“Not if it weren’t true,” Dan answered quietly. “Chub’s terribly lonesome. He needs a Dad.”
“One that he could be proud of,” the man answered in a bitter voice. “It’s better that I go away and never tell him the truth!”
“Would that be fair to Chub?” Brad asked.
“It might be the kindest thing I could do. He has a good home here. I’ve checked into that.”
“Chub has a good home,” Dan agreed, “but he isn’t happy. He’s always mooning around, not talking much, but sort of wrapped in his own thoughts. He needs a Dad.”
“Your name isn’t Smith,” Brad took up the discussion. “Is it Weldon, the same as Chub’s?”
“That’s right. He doesn’t know who I am though.”
Chub’s father remained silent for some minutes. Then, apparently having made up his mind to tell the Cubs everything about himself, he said:
“Things are coming to a head fast. I expect to pull out of Webster City in a few days at the latest. I haven’t decided yet whether or not to tell Chub that I’m his father. Can I depend upon you boys to keep the secret—at least for the time being?”
“Of course,” Brad said at once.
“We wouldn’t tell Chub unless you gave us permission,” Dan added. “That wouldn’t be square.”
“My real name is Bruce Weldon,” the man disclosed. “I’ll not go too much into the past, except to say that some years ago through no fault of my own, I lost touch with Chub.”
“How?” Brad inquired.
“Well, in a divorce proceeding, his custody was awarded to my wife. Chub was only a baby then and needed a mother to look after him. I sent money regularly for his care. That is, I did until I was wounded while serving at the front. For months, I lay in a hospital, but through a mix-up of records, I was reported missing in action.”
“Then what happened?” Dan asked, deeply interested in the story.
“Eventually, I recovered and started checking up. I learned then that my wife had died, and that Chub had been placed in the home of one of her friends.
“When I inquired there, I discovered that the arrangement hadn’t worked out well, and that he had been shifted elsewhere. To make a long story short, it took me nearly six months to trace Chub to Webster City. Meanwhile, I’d spent most of my money, and I couldn’t take a job, because I didn’t want to settle down until I found Chub.”
“Now that you’ve found him, why not tell him who you are?” Brad suggested. “Wouldn’t that straighten everything?”
“It’s not that simple,” Mr. Weldon replied. “I’ve made a contact with Juvenile Court authorities, but the director isn’t satisfied it would be for Chub’s best interests to let me have him again. You see, it hinges on my ability to support him. I know I can get a good job and keep it too, but the court demands proof.”
“Have you talked to Mr. Greene?” Dan questioned. “He’s real nice and might help you.”
“I know Mr. Greene very well.”
“I guess he knows about Chub too,” Dan said, recalling the visit of the Cubs to Juvenile Court. “Gee, it was sort of funny! I actually thought Chub might have been in trouble with the court, because everyone there seemed to be acquainted with him. It was only because they were looking out for his rights.”
“Chub never was in trouble in his life,” Mr. Weldon said proudly. “He’s a mighty good youngster, bright in school too. Mr. Greene assured me of that. His only problem is that he isn’t very happy.”
“Being a Cub though, has helped,” Brad said. “He’s more sure of himself, and he hardly ever stutters any more unless he’s excited.”
Mr. Weldon nodded and made the boys a promise. “I’ll always stick up for the Den 2 boys. You know why? They were kind to Chub and didn’t tease him. Now about cleaning up those accusations against the Cubs. Shall we do it on the night of the basketball game?”
“That would be the best time,” Brad agreed. “How will we arrange it?”
“Leave that to me,” said Mr. Weldon confidently. “Just have Mr. Greene attend the game, and if possible the trustees of this church.”
“I’ll get ’em there, if I have to give them free tickets to the game!” Dan chortled. “Wow! What a sockaroo Pat Oswald has in store! Even if he and his gang win that Friday game, they’re going to get the jolt of their lives!”
CHAPTER 19
CUB HONOR
The church gymnasium was jammed with spectators. Every seat had been taken ten minutes in advance of the scheduled game between the Cubs and the Purple Five. Now, crouched in a tight little knot at one end of the floor, the Den 2 boys were awaiting the starting signal.
Dan’s gaze roved over the audience. In the front row not far from where his own parents sat, he sighted both Mr. Maxwell and Mr. Brennan.
He heaved a sigh of relief. Actually, he hadn’t dared hope that the church trustees would attend the game, even though he had mailed them tickets.
Dan’s searching eyes traveled on through row upon row of spectators. Toward the back of the gymnasium, he saw Mr. Greene, the Juvenile Court director, and another court official he did not know by name.
“Everyone’s here,” he whispered jubilantly.
“Everyone except Mr. Weldon,” Brad replied and his voice was tense with worry. “What if he doesn’t show up?”
“He promised, didn’t he?”
“Sure, but we haven’t seen him since that day in the belfry. Maybe he’s skipped town. Tell you the truth, Dan, I’m jittery. If he doesn’t come to identify Pat, what’ll we do?”
“He’ll come,” Dan said.
Though he spoke confidently, he too shared the older boy’s uneasiness. Twice since the two had seen Mr. Weldon in the church belfry, they had returned to seek him. They had found only a locked, and apparently deserted church. The stranger who had claimed to be Chub’s father, obviously had moved out immediately after his meeting with them. Had he left Webster City? They had no way of knowing, but they had not once seen him on the street.
As for the game itself, feeling was running high. The greater percentage of rooters seemed to favor the Cubs, but one section of the gymnasium was jammed with friends of Pat and the Bay Shore boys. Dan wondered how they would take a loss of the game, or a disclosure that the Purple Five team was wanted in Juvenile Court.
“I feel sort of sorry for Pat,” he remarked privately to Dan. “The guy doesn’t have a suspicion of what’s going to happen to him.”
“Assuming that Mr. Weldon shows up.”
“Pat isn’t such a bad sort when you get to know him,” Dan went on. “He’s a show off, of course, and full of mischief. He’s quieted down a lot though lately.”
“Conscience hurting you, Dan?”
“No such thing! If Pat and his bunch wrecked that old Christian Church, then it’s only right that they take their medicine. I’m not forgetting that they let the blame fall on the Cubs.”
Brad glanced nervously at the wall clock. “Three more minutes until game time,” he said. “I only hope the Cubs win! It’s terribly important, because if Pat’s team wins, and then everything breaks wide open, they may accuse us of putting the finger on ’em to get even.”
Not only Dan and Brad, but all of the Cubs were exceedingly nervous. This third game in the series was the deciding one. The Den 2 boys did not so much mind losing, but they hoped that they would play their best.
The line-up however, was discouraging. Chips, although out of quarantine, had not been permitted to play. He sat in the audience, beside Mr. Hatfield, looking pale and dejected.
Brad would play center, as always. Red and Midge were assigned as guards, while Dan and Chub were forwards. That left only Fred as substitute, which meant that the Cubs would have to take care not to be put out on personal fouls.
“If we only had Chips in the game, we’d have a chance at least,” Brad confided to his friend. “But Chub—”
“He’s improved a lot this last week,” Dan said loyally. “I’ve been helping him every night after school, teaching him a few tricks. He’s pepped up a great deal.”
“I’ve noticed that,” Brad admitted, turning to look at the younger boy, who even now was practicing baskets. “Do you suppose he could know—”
“About his father? I’ve wondered the same thing, Brad. He hasn’t dropped a word, but the last couple of days he’s seemed on fire. He’s been so jolly and so full of pep. I just hope he’s that way tonight.”
The sounding of a whistle warned the Cubs that it was game time. They huddled together for a last-minute conference, then trotted out to their places on the floor.
“Come on, Cubs!” yelled the Den 2 rooters.
“Get in there, Pat!” shouted the Purple Five supporters. “Show ’em your stuff!”
The game started fast. The Purple Five had elected to take the south basket in the first half.
As the Cubs fully expected, the Purple Five center was inches taller than Brad. He out jumped his opponent, and easily tapped the ball to Pat in the first second of play.
Red though, was on his toes. He guarded Pat so closely that he could not pass or shoot for the basket. The referee tossed the ball between them. Red out jumped his opponent, and sent the ball bouncing toward Chub.
The boy missed it, but recovered. He hesitated, uncertain what to do.
“Shoot it to Dan!” shouted Chips from the sidelines.
Chub heard and hurled the ball. The shot was wild, but Dan made a leap into the air and caught it. The crowd roared with delight.
“Shoot! Shoot!” screamed the Den 2 rooters.
The ball went smoothly from Dan’s hands. It made a high loop and with scarcely a sound, dropped through the north basket.
The Cubs had scored two points in the first three minutes of play!
Thrilled by their success, the Cubs tried harder than ever for victory. However, the Purple Five were not to be caught napping a second time. Pat and his teammates began to play less cautiously, always watching for a chance to shatter the defense of the Cubs.
The Den 2 plays were working perfectly until the ball reached Chub. Repeatedly, Brad or Midge fed him the ball, only to have him muff the shot. Whenever possible, they passed to Dan, but both Purple Five guards concentrated on him.
“They watch me like a hawk,” Dan complained as the two teams rested at the end of the first quarter. “If I could just get a free shot at that basket once in a while!”
The score stood 2 to 6 in favor of the Purple Five. The Cubs truly were worried. Unless they dug in fast, they’d lose the game.
Chub touched Dan on the arm. “Why don’t you put Fred in instead of me?” he asked. “I—I try, but I can’t seem to find the basket.”
Dan slapped him on the back. “You’re doing fine,” he said. “Quit worrying and just think about the game.”
“I wanted to do well tonight ’specially,” Chub said. “There’s someone here watching me—”
Dan had forgotten entirely about Chub’s father. Now he saw the other boy turn and glance directly at a man who stood at the end of the gymnasium with a group of spectators who had arrived too late to obtain seats.
So Mr. Weldon had kept his promise! Dan felt a great load drop from his shoulders. What a surprise Pat would get, when the game finally ended!
Dan saw Chub wave to his father, and noted the happy light in the boy’s eyes.
“He knows the truth,” Dan instantly decided. “Someone has told him. That’s why he’s trying so hard tonight. He wants to make good for his father.”
Just then Mr. Hatfield came across the floor to speak to Dan. Drawing him aside, he asked his opinion about keeping Chub in the game.
“Fred doesn’t particularly want to play,” the Cub leader said. “Chub has missed a good many chances to score though. If you take him out—”
“No, try him awhile longer,” Dan replied quickly. “Chub is playing better tonight than he ever did before. Let him stay in. After all, winning isn’t everything.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that, Dan,” Mr. Hatfield answered. “This has been a good clean game so far, and that’s what counts. Excellent sportsmanship on both sides.”
The game went on, and for a while the Cubs played with renewed energy. Chub managed a basket and the fans cheered madly.
But the next minute, Pat captured the ball. Before Red could stop him, he dribbled down the floor, cut in under the basket and scored.
Dan was annoyed at himself. He was playing well but the Purple Five guards wouldn’t give him a chance. Time and again they deserted Chub entirely to concentrate their attention on him.
Even so, he twice broke through and made spectacular shots. At the end of the half the score stood 8 to 6, with the Purple Five leading by only one basket.
“We may take ’em yet,” Dan said grimly as he rested with his teammates. “Bear down, fellows.”
Baskets were held to a minimum in the third quarter. The players all were tiring. Mr. Hatfield took Chub out of the game for awhile, substituting Fred. When the Purple Five ran up two baskets in quick succession, he called him to the bench and let Chub go in again.
The Cubs truly were discouraged. With the score at 12 to 6 it seemed to them they were sunk.
“Come on, Cubs!” the rooters pleaded. “The old fight.”
Dan gritted his teeth and tried harder than ever. He leaped for a high one, and fastening upon the ball, ran full tilt into a Purple Five guard. He pivoted, faked a pass to Chub, and dropped the ball through the basket.
After that, playing as if inspired, he scored again. Once he tangled briefly with a Purple Five guard, and the referee called a personal foul on both players. The Purple Five player missed the free throw, while the Cubs again scored.
With less than a minute to play, the tally now was: 12 to 11 in favor of the Purple Five.
“One basket would do it,” Dan thought desperately. “If we don’t snag it, we’ll lose by a single point.”
How much time was left? A minute at best. Perhaps only seconds. Assured of victory, Pat and his teammates were playing a delaying game. Without trying to make another basket, they merely sought to prevent a Cub from getting his hands on the ball.
It seemed to the frantic Cubs that they couldn’t shatter the tight defense. Pat dribbled the ball lazily, passing it to a player in the middle of the floor.
“Get in there! Break it up!” Chips and Fred yelled from the sidelines. “Thirty seconds to play!”
Thirty seconds! Holy Mackerel, the game was the same as over! Dan breathed heavily. He was winded, and sick with the fear of defeat.
Only one basket was needed—only one.
Then Dan saw his chance. Still employing “keep it away” tactics, Pat lazily passed the ball to the forward who guarded Chub. The player missed the catch and the ball rolled free.
Like a flash, Dan darted in and seized it.
“Stop him!” Pat yelled.
Both guards were on Dan in an instant. They boxed him in, making it impossible for him to have an unobstructed shot for the basket.
Dan knew that he never could score. True, he could make a wild shot, but it never would find its mark.
Chub, however, stood unguarded a little beyond the center of the floor.
Dan passed the ball to him. Chub caught it squarely, then hesitated.
Only a few seconds now remained. Dan saw the time keeper starting to raise his hand in signal. Another instant and the game would be over.
“Shoot,” he yelled. “Shoot, Chub!”
The younger Cub still seemed to hesitate. For a dreadful moment, Dan thought that he intended to try to pass the ball back.
Then, Chub took careful aim and attempted the longest basket of his life. The ball looped high, striking the backstop.
The Cub rooters groaned, certain that Chub had missed. But the ball came down, striking the rim of the basket.
There it teetered while the spectators as one, held their breath. Then it dropped through the netting.
At the same moment, the game came to an end. The score read: 13 to 12 in favor of the Cubs.
“Golly, did I really make that basket?” Chub demanded, dumbfounded.
Dan and the other Cubs rushed over to clap him on the back.
“You were swell!” Brad assured him. “You too, Dan,” he added warmly. “If you’d tried to grandstand that last shot yourself, the Cubs would have lost. It was teamwork that saved the game!”
Chub’s eyes sparkled with delight. “Know something?” he confessed. “When I made that last shot, I-I closed my eyes. I was scared I’d miss because I always do on the long shots. So I just closed my eyes and said a little prayer.”
“No matter how you did it, the Cubs won!” Dan chuckled. “I wonder how Pat and his boys will take it?”
The Purple Five, discouraged by defeat, had gathered in a little knot across the room. Pat could be seen talking to the group very earnestly, but what he might be saying the Cubs could not guess.
Chub, greatly excited, was unable to contain his enthusiasm.
“T-This was the biggest thrill of my l-life,” he declared. “Did I really do all right?”
“Swell,” Red assured him patiently.
“I’m glad,” Chub sighed. “Being a Cub means so much to me. But I’ve never been able to carry my end.”
“You did tonight,” Dan said. “You’re a credit to the team and to Den 2.”
“I’ll remember that always,” Chub replied soberly.
He slipped away then into the crowd. Dan saw him join his father and they both went off together.
The crowd already was filing out of the gymnasium. Brad came hurrying over to speak to Dan.
“Say, we must work fast!” he announced breathlessly. “Mr. Greene and those church trustees are leaving!”
“They can’t do that until Mr. Weldon tells what he knows!” Dan exclaimed in dismay. “He’s supposed to identify Pat and his bunch!”
“We’re making a mess of it,” Brad declared. “This was supposed to be our big moment, and what happens? Everyone pulls out!”
“You stop Mr. Greene and the trustees,” Dan directed. “Take them to the clubroom. I’ll fetch Mr. Weldon.”
“Okay, but hurry,” Brad advised.
Dan started off in search of Chub and his father. He was annoyed at himself for having let them get out of his sight. Now they seemed to have vanished completely.
As he searched, Pat Oswald sought him, diffidently offering his hand.
“The Cubs played a dandy game,” he said. “You deserved to win.”
“Why, thanks,” Dan replied, hiding his astonishment.
He shook Pat’s hand and then felt suddenly almost ashamed of himself. In another minute or two, he’d be accusing this same boy in front of Mr. Greene and the church trustees. It didn’t make sense.
“Anything wrong?” Pat asked curiously.
“Plenty.” Dan spoke in cold misery. But he couldn’t tell him the truth even then. This was the hour the Cubs long had awaited. If he weakened now, Den 2 might never clear its dishonored name.
“You look sort of funny,” Pat said, staring hard at him. “Guess you played too hard.”
Dan shook his head. “I’m looking for Chub and a man with him,” he said. “Have you seen them?”
“They left the church together.”
“Left the church?” Dan repeated in disbelief. “Why, Chub hadn’t even changed his clothes!”
“He slipped a pair of jeans over his shorts and went that way. They must have been in an awful hurry. The man just hustled him into a taxi and off they went.”
Dan stared at Pat, drinking in the words. Why, it was incredible!
“You’re telling me straight?” he demanded.
“Sure.” Pat grinned, and added impudently: “Cub’s honor!”
Dan felt completely deflated. He knew without checking that Pat had spoken the truth. For some unknown reason, Mr. Weldon has hustled his son away from the gymnasium. Deliberately, he had welched on his promise to clear the Cubs! Now the true story might never be disclosed publicly.
“Say, you are sick,” Pat said with concern. “Anything I can do?”
Dumbly, Dan shook his head. “You’ve done it already,” he said. “The Cubs lost everything they valued tonight.”
“I don’t get it,” Pat said, looking puzzled. “You won the game, didn’t you?”
“What’s a game? More than victory or anything else, the Cubs cherished their good name in the community.”
Pat stared at Dan a moment. “What’s that got to do with me?” he demanded.
“I think you know, I’d hoped that tonight the Cubs might clear themselves of the untruths that have been told about them. Now I know that chance is gone.”
With dignity, Dan turned and walked away from Pat into the dressing room.
CHAPTER 20
PROOF
In the clubroom, the Den mothers were serving hot chocolate and home baked cookies to the Cubs and their friends.
When Dan stepped into the room which buzzed with conversation, he noted at once that the Bay Shore boys had not accepted an invitation to share refreshments. This was not surprising, for in previous games Pat and his followers had left the building immediately after the contest.
As he scanned the crowd, Brad and Midge came over to speak to him.
“Have you seen Chub?” the Den Chief asked anxiously.
Before Dan could reveal what he knew, Brad went on: “Right after the game, he came to me and thanked me for being nice to him. Said the Cubs all had been swell, and he wanted me to tell them so for him. I didn’t think much about it at the time. But now I’m worried.”
“Chub’s gone.”
“Gone where, Dan?”
“I don’t know. But I have a hunch he’s with his father, and that we’ll never see either of them again.”
Dan then related his own last meeting with Chub and recounted Pat’s report of seeing the two leave the church together in a taxi.
“Mr. Weldon must have decided to skip town and take Chub with him!” Brad gasped. “Gosh! Where does that leave us?”
“Just where we came in.” Dan spoke dejectedly. “Without Mr. Weldon, we can’t prove a thing! We’re sunk!”
“I asked the church trustees and Mr. Greene up here too,” Brad groaned. “They’re talking to Mr. Hatfield now.”
He jerked his head to indicate the chocolate table where the four men stood. Mr. Greene had accepted a cup of cocoa from one of the mothers. Mr. Maxwell and Mr. Brennan, however, had refused the refreshments.