Mr. Hatfield had taken no part in the discussion, and Dan now asked him what he thought of the challenge.
“First, let’s hear your opinion, and then I’ll speak my piece,” the Cub leader replied.
“Well, I’m in favor of picking up the challenge,” Dan replied after a moment of thought. “For two reasons. First, if we turn the game down, Pat and his gang will go around saying we’re afraid of defeat. Then it hit me that if we really want to learn more about those kids and their habits, this would be a mighty good chance!”
“They’re a bunch of hoodlums!” Red said resentfully. “It’s probably their fault that the Scout organization is mixed up in a threatened lawsuit. They slap us on one cheek and we hold up another for a big whallop!”
“We only suspect that Pat’s outfit did the damage at Christian Church,” Brad said, supporting Dan’s position. “If we schedule a game, we may overhear talk that will give us a straight lead. What do you think, Mr. Hatfield?”
“Cubs are supposed to give good will,” he replied gravely. “Pat and his gang haven’t had many advantages. Contact with a church, a worthwhile Cub organization and wholesome sportsmanship, might do the outfit a world of good.”
“Sure, but what about us?” Red argued. “Won’t they make more and more trouble?”
“That’s a possibility, Red. But I think the Cubs can look after themselves.”
“So do I,” declared Dan. “Let’s arrange a game and then get busy and practice.”
An animated discussion followed as the boys made their plans. Mr. Hatfield suggested that a series of three games be scheduled in the church gymnasium. He promised that they would be closely supervised and rules strictly enforced.
“How about charging admission?” Brad suggested. “If the Cub organization has to pay for the services of a lawyer, we should be getting some money in our treasury.”
As a general rule, Mr. Hatfield did not favor selling tickets or charging admission for Cub affairs. Nevertheless, he acknowledged that the Den’s need for cash was urgent and that a few extra dollars might be of great help.
“We might charge a small amount,” he agreed reluctantly. “Twenty-five cents perhaps.”
Only the date for the first game remained to be settled. Mr. Hatfield said he thought it should be set for at least ten days ahead to give the Cubs time to practice and better organize their team.
“We can’t devote all our time to athletics,” he warned the boys. “Remember, we have those ‘Know Your Neighborhood’ visits ahead, not to mention the party for parents. Speaking of the party, I’m ashamed to say I’ve been so busy with conferences, I’ve had no chance to try to look up ice cream freezers.”
“No one can find any,” Midge reported gloomily. “That party will be one big flop.”
“Not at all,” Mr. Hatfield cheered him. “I think that it might be well to postpone the affair one week. Another seven days will give us time enough to round up a freezer or two.”
The Cubs were relieved by the change in plan, especially as everyone was in an uneasy mood regarding the outcome of the threatened lawsuit. After electing Dan captain of the basketball team, they assigned him and Brad to notify Pat Oswald that the challenge had been accepted.
“It’s too silly, leaving a note in a bottle in an alley,” Brad objected. “Why don’t we just write an acceptance and mail it to his home.”
The latter course was decided upon, and later that night the two boys composed the letter and sent it off. Two days later a message was returned to the church clubroom, accepting the first basketball game date and agreeing to the series of three contests.
“The deal is on, and now we’ve got to buckle down,” Dan warned his teammates. “Gobs of practice!”
Determined not to be shown up by the Purple Five, the Cubs spent every spare hour in the church gymnasium.
Gradually, under the coaching of Brad, the team began to shape up. Dan and Midge, having the best eye for basket shooting, were assigned as forwards. Red and Chips, both being sturdily built, were to guard. Brad would play center, as he had a long reach, and was taller than any of the younger boys.
Chub and Fred were assigned as substitutes. Neither was very adept at handling a basketball. Both attended practice sessions faithfully, but Fred in particular had no deep interest in the game, preferring to read.
Mr. Hatfield attended the work-outs whenever he could. He was very busy, however, and frequently was summoned to special meetings with Scout leaders, court officials and attorneys. That the Cubmaster was deeply worried over the pending lawsuit was obvious from his preoccupied manner.
Though basketball had become an absorbing interest, Brad and Dan did not neglect other Cub activities. They made plans for “Know Your Neighborhood” visits, and launched the building of a cardboard fort in the clubroom. Fred enthusiastically took charge of the work, gathering materials and supervising the construction.
“We’re pretty well set for our Mom’s and Dad’s party, if only we had an ice cream freezer,” Dan remarked one afternoon. “Mr. Hatfield intended to find one, but he’s been too busy to give it any thought.”
“Let’s try to rustle it ourselves,” Brad proposed. “How about a house to house canvas?”
“I’ve already tried almost every home in our block.”
“We could work a new neighborhood, Dan. How about the locality of Old Christian Church?”
“Why there, Brad?”
“Thought we could do a little investigating at the same time. On the pretext of asking for an ice cream freezer, we can question folks in the neighborhood about whether or not there were any witnesses to the damage that was done.”
“Not a bad idea,” Dan approved.
The boys hiked to within a block of the old church and then began ringing doorbells. At each house they voiced a double inquiry. First they asked if an old fashioned ice cream freezer could be borrowed, and then they inquired for information regarding the recent trouble at the deserted building.
After nearly twenty unfruitful calls, Dan and Brad began to grow discouraged. No one it seemed had an ice cream freezer, and the only comment they obtained relative to the church damage was that “a group of Boy Scouts did it.”
“No witnesses apparently,” Brad said, losing heart. “It begins to look mighty bad for Den 2, Dan.”
“Let’s try one more house,” Dan suggested.
The one he indicated stood directly across from the abandoned church. Purposely, the boys had left it to the last, so that their tour would end near a bus stop.
Going up the winding walk, Dan and Brad rapped on the door. A man in shirt-sleeves, a newspaper in his hand, came to the door. The two boys repeated their inquiries which by now had become a routine speech.
“I don’t know where you can find an ice cream freezer,” the man turned them down. He stared at the blue uniforms which the boys wore. “Say, you boys are Cub Scouts, aren’t you?”
“Yes, we are,” Dan replied proudly.
“Were you in the gang that was supposed to have ripped the church building apart?”
“We were not,” Dan returned. “Our organization has been falsely accused. We’re trying to prove we had nothing to do with it.”
“Can’t you?”
“It’s not so easy. You see, a few of us visited the grounds before the real damage was done. We accidentally smashed a window. After we left, the place was wrecked, and we were accused.”
“It happened just after dark,” the home owner said. “I know because I heard windows being smashed. A half dozen kids, more or less, were in the gang, running wild over the place. I called police, but they got away before the wagon arrived.”
“Did you see any of the boys?” Brad asked eagerly.
“Only at a distance.”
“You didn’t see anyone in Cub uniforms?”
“I was too far away to tell. The boys mostly were large fellows. Too old to be Cubs, I’d judge.”
Brad and Dan asked the man for his name and address, intending to give it to Mr. Hatfield. If their case actually came to trial it might be that he could be called to testify in behalf of the Cubs. His information, though, was meager.
After leaving the house, the two boys went across the street to peer at the church building again. Since their last visit, all the windows had been repaired.
“Not too much damage has been done.” Brad said, gazing about. “Those trustees are just trying to build up a big case without much to go on.”
Dan pressed his face against a basement window, peering down into the storage room.
“Those freezers are still there,” he announced. “I sure wish we could borrow ’em for the party.”
“Well, we can’t,” Brad returned. “I wouldn’t ask those trustees for a favor, even if we never find a freezer.”
“Here either,” Dan agreed. “Say, I see our bus coming. Let’s grab it.”
During the next two days, the Cubs were kept very busy at school. Each afternoon was spent in the gymnasium. On several occasions, they saw members of Pat’s crowd watching from the windows. The boys never would come inside, but plainly were studying the game and tactics of the Cubs.
“They’re trying to study out our plays,” Dan reported to his teammates. “Well, let ’em. We’ll beat them fair and square.”
On Saturday morning, Mr. Hatfield took all Den members to Juvenile Court on the first visit scheduled in the “Know Your Neighborhood” series of excursions.
The boys watched a hearing in progress, listened to a little talk on traffic safety, and then met a judge.
Later, they crossed a corridor to another cluster of offices. Mr. Hatfield explained that private hearings were conducted for boys and girls who had committed misdemeanors. He led the Cubs into the office of Harold Greene, court director.
“Boys, I want you to meet an old friend of mine,” he introduced them.
The Cubs were grateful that the Juvenile Court official made no reference whatsoever to the incident involving the old Christian Church. He knew about it, they were certain, but purposely was being tactful.
Mr. Greene shook hands which each Cub in turn. When he came to Chub, he nodded and smiled and said:
“Why, Chub, I’m glad to see you again. Getting along fine, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” Chub mumbled nervously.
“You like the place where you are living now?”
“Y-yes, sir,” Chub muttered again. He seemed very ill at ease and acted relieved when Mr. Hatfield steered the boys on to another office.
The Cubs could not fail to note that Chub was well known to the Court director. Was it possible, they speculated, that at some time he had been before the court? Could that explain why Mr. Hatfield had warned them not to inquire into the boy’s past?
The Cubs moved on to a public reception room where juveniles sat while awaiting calls to the conference chambers. Glancing carelessly over the group of downcast boys slouched in the chairs, Dan received another shock.
There in one of the chairs by the door, sat Pat Oswald! Seeing the Cubs, he quickly lowered his head into a magazine and pretended to read.
Knowing that he had been recognized, Pat grinned sheepishly at Dan.
“I’m here with a friend of mine,” he muttered. “These birds haven’t got anything on me—no sir!”
Dan had his own idea of why Pat might be in court, but he pretended to accept the explanation. He had heard at school that a group of boys had been loitering near the railroad tracks, boarding freight trains, and otherwise making a nuisance of themselves. Undoubtedly, Pat and some of his cronies had been brought in by police for questioning.
This was confirmed a moment later as one of the court referees came out of his private office and motioned to Pat.
“I’ll talk to you next,” he said. “Come in.”
Pat cast a quick look at Dan, and ducked into the conference room.
The tour of the big courthouse continued. Dan could not fail to note that Chub seemed rather familiar with the Juvenile Court section of the building. More than ever he was convinced that the new Cub member was known to some of the referees as well as the court director. Chub, however, maintained his usual shy silence and offered no explanation.
The boy’s familiarity with the building did not escape the attention of the other Cubs. As they were leaving after the tour, Red sidled over to Dan.
“What do you think about Chub?” he whispered.
“Nothing, why?”
“Did you notice how the court director knew him?”
“Sure, but what of it?”
“Well—” Red was rather ashamed of his own suspicions. “I just wonder if maybe he hasn’t been in some trouble—”
“I wouldn’t do too much speculating,” Dan said to end the talk. “Don’t you like Chub?”
“Sure, but—”
“No buts then, Red. Mr. Hatfield told us Chub was okay, and that’s enough for me.”
“Same here,” Red shrugged. “I was just thinking, that’s all.”
During the next few days the Cubs devoted many hours to basketball practice. When not otherwise occupied they worked on the cardboard fort in the meeting room and perfected plans for the coming Friday night party.
The problem of finding an ice cream freezer still confronted the Cubs. On Thursday, only a day before the scheduled affair to honor parents, the boys admitted that they were up against it.
“We’ll have to buy our ice cream,” Brad said to the Den members as they sat discussing the matter in their clubroom. “Mr. Hatfield has been too busy to do anything about finding a freezer, and the rest of us have had no luck.”
“The party won’t be any good without homemade ice cream,” Midge said gloomily. “I wanted to turn the freezer too!”
“No use moaning about it,” Brad replied. “We’ll have a good party just the same. At any rate we’ll have the big fort on display. Fred and his helpers did a fine job building it.”
“Thanks,” Fred said, warming to the praise. “It was a lot of work making the thing.”
The fort, constructed of cut and painted sheets of cardboard, was a replica of an old pioneer historical building which the boys had visited several months before. Fred had spent weeks on the task, working out every detail with care. Now the structure was finished, ready for display at the Friday party.
“By the way, there’s one business matter to come before the group,” Brad resumed. “We have a request to consider from Pat Oswald.”
“He wants to cancel the game!” Chips guessed.
“Quite the contrary. He and his boys are taking the tournament very seriously. Pat demands a chance to practice in our gymnasium before the game.”
A silence fell upon the room. Then Red said grumpily: “Maybe he’d like to have us turn over the whole place to him!”
“The request seemed like a reasonable one.”
Dan spoke up. “I think we should agree to let them use the gym. That is, if Mr. Hatfield says it is all right. The church gym wasn’t built for our special use.”
“Pat doesn’t go to this church,” Red growled. “He doesn’t attend any church. Do him good if he did!”
“Cubs are supposed to be FAIR,” Dan reminded him. “We agreed to a series of three games. Now do we want it to be an honest test of athletic skill, or do we want to win at any cost?”
“Oh, let ’em use the gym,” Red gave in, knowing all the other Cubs favored Brad’s viewpoint. “Someone ought to keep watch though, while they’re here. They might decide to wreck the place, the way they did the old church.”
“That hasn’t been proven,” Brad said. “Anyway, you may be sure adults will supervise the practice closely.”
Chub, who had been seated nearest the door, suddenly jumped up.
“What’s wrong?” Midge asked him. “You’re as nervous as a cat.”
“I—I thought I heard someone in the hall.”
“Maybe it’s Mr. Hatfield coming,” Brad said, glancing at the wall clock. “He’s a tiny bit late again. Probably another meeting with Mr. Maxwell’s lawyer.”
The Cubs waited a moment, listening. Mr. Hatfield did not appear, but Dan thought he heard an outside door softly close.
“Maybe Pat and his gang have been eavesdropping again!” he cried.
The Cubs ran out into the shadowy corridor. It was quite deserted. But there against the wall, neatly positioned like twin sentinels, were two large ice cream freezers.
“Whoopee!” chortled Midge. “See what Santa Claus brought us!”
“Freezers!” Chips laughed, cavorting around them. “Just when we had given up hope too.”
While the other Cubs were examining the mysterious gifts, Dan and Brad hastened on to the outer door.
They reached it in time to catch a fleeting glimpse of someone vanishing into a clump of bushes to the left of the churchyard.
“That wasn’t Mr. Hatfield, was it?” Dan demanded.
“Too tall,” Brad replied. “Anyway, he wouldn’t have left the freezers in the hallway.”
“Maybe it was one of the Den Dads. Odd though, that whoever it was, didn’t rap on the clubroom door and wait to be thanked. Anyway, I’m sure glad to get those freezers!”
Brad kept frowning thoughtfully as he walked back to rejoin the other Cubs.
“Anything to show who left the freezers?” he asked Midge. “Any card?”
“Not a thing. They’re big ones though. Just what we need for our party tomorrow night.”
Dan too had been inspecting the freezers. He remarked that they were the same size as the ones he had noticed in the old Christian Church basement. “Do you suppose they came from there?” he speculated.
“I doubt it,” Midge answered carelessly. “Those old trustees haven’t relented one bit. And Terry wouldn’t bring them to us—you know that.”
“Well, we have ’em and that’s what counts,” Chips cheerfully declared. “Now we can go ahead with our plans. Let’s make the ice cream first thing after school tomorrow night. It should keep if we pack it in ice.”
Jubilantly, the Cubs carried the two freezers into the clubroom. They were still discussing the strange manner of delivery when Mr. Hatfield arrived. He had nothing new to report regarding the threatened damage suit, but expressed amazement that the Den had acquired the cream freezers.
“I had nothing to do with it,” he assured the Cubs. “To be sure, I’ve asked a number of people if they knew where we could get some freezers. Perhaps one of our inquiries paid off.”
Brad told the Cubmaster of the request Pat Oswald had made with reference to use of the gymnasium for a basketball practice session.
“No reason why they can’t use it for an hour tomorrow night after school, is there?” Mr. Hatfield inquired. “The Cubs will be making ice cream and won’t want the floor themselves.”
“Do you think they should be allowed the run of the place?” Red protested. “You know how Pat and his gang are.”
“The practice will be a supervised one. I promise you that,” Mr. Hatfield said. “I see no reason why the boys shouldn’t be allowed privileges here, providing they don’t abuse them.”
“You’re forgetting how they got us into trouble,” Red asserted.
“No, Red. I just believe in fair play, that’s all. We agreed to the series of games, so it’s only right that we give the Purple Five a chance to practice. Right?”
“Oh, I guess so,” Red submitted. “I don’t trust Pat, that’s all.”
Word was carried to Pat that his team might use the gymnasium the following afternoon from three-thirty until four-thirty.
“You mean it?” The boy demanded in surprise when Dan gave him the information. “Well, thanks!”
“Say, by the way, you weren’t at the church a while ago, were you?” Dan asked in an offhand way.
The moment he had asked the question, he regretted it. Once the words had been spoken it was too late to retract them.
“Why, no, why?” Pat demanded.
“Oh, a couple of ice cream freezers were delivered to the Cubs,” Dan explained reluctantly. “I thought you might know something about it.”
Pat’s blank expression convinced Dan that he knew nothing of the matter. More than ever, he was sorry he had brought up the subject.
“What are the Cubs doing with ice cream freezers?” Pat demanded, his curiosity aroused. “For that party you’re giving tomorrow night, I bet!”
Dan had not suspected that the other knew of the planned social affair.
“How’d you find out about it?” he asked.
Pat grinned provokingly. “That’s for me to know and you to find out!” he retorted.
Thrusting hands deep into the pockets of his patched jeans, he sauntered off.
“Keep turning that crank! Do you want the paddles to stick?”
The irate command was directed by Red Suell at Chips who had rested a moment as he cranked one of the big ice cream freezers.
All of the Cubs except Brad were making ice cream in the church basement. Mrs. Holloway and Red’s mother had volunteered to direct the work. The two mothers had been kept busy offering suggestions, for none of the boys ever before had made ice cream except in the tray of a refrigerator.
Dan and Midge had cracked the ice in a gunny sack, hammering the stubborn chunks until they were of tiny, uniform size. The metal containers, with their wooden paddles, had been set into the packed freezers, and now the cranking had begun. Red was assigned to one, while Chub and Chips took turns at the other.
“My arm is getting tired,” Red complained. “Someone else take over!”
“You’ve hardly been at it two minutes,” Dan teased. Nevertheless, he seized the crank, turning it steadily and smoothly.
“Say, it’s going harder and harder,” he presently admitted. “Do you suppose the cream could be frozen?”
“Very nearly so,” declared Mrs. Holloway, packing more ice into the freezer.
Dan kept cranking. Melted salt water spilled faster and faster out of the little round hole in the freezer.
“This is getting awfully hard!” he gasped, exerting all of his strength to keep the crank moving.
“And this old freezer is stuck!” cried Chips, who was taking his turn at the other freezer. “It won’t budge an inch!”
“Shall we take a look?” asked Mrs. Holloway, relieving him.
She unfastened the top of the freezer, carefully opening the metal cylinder packed deep in ice. The Cubs clustered around, eager to see what their labors had produced.
Mrs. Holloway lifted the paddle slightly. The Cubs uttered squeals of delight. The wooden paddle was simply loaded with rich looking, delicately pink strawberry ice cream.
“It looks lovely, doesn’t it?” Mrs. Holloway laughed. “Now you boys must draw straws to see who gets to lick the paddle!”
Chub won, so Mrs. Holloway handed the richly coated paddle to him on a paper plate. Midge was awarded the paddle from the freezer Dan had turned so faithfully.
“Gee, is this ever good!” he shouted, smacking his lips. “I wish I could have a big dish.”
“You can tonight,” Mrs. Holloway promised.
The other Cubs looked so downcast to see Midge and Chub eating the ice cream that Mrs. Holloway gave them each a tiny sample.
“Best ice cream I ever tasted,” declared Dan. “I’ll bet our party will be a huge success tonight.”
Under the direction of the two mothers, the Cubs cleaned up the muss they had made in the basement. Both freezers then were packed firmly with chopped ice, so that the cream would remain solid until it was needed.
“Dan, I wish you and Red would help carry the freezers upstairs,” Mrs. Holloway requested. “It’s so warm here, the ice will melt. I think it will be better to set the freezers outside.”
The two Cubs followed instructions, setting the containers on a tiny, back porch behind the church kitchen. To further protect them, they covered both freezers with a piece of canvas.
“Everything’s set now for the party,” Dan remarked cheerfully. “Wonder what’s doing in the gym?”
Moving down the corridor, the two Cubs could hear the slap-slap-slap of rubber-soled shoes on the polished gymnasium floor. Brad, Mr. Hatfield and the other Cubs were there, watching the workout of the Purple Five.
Obviously, Pat and his players were trying to put on a show. They made a great commotion, passing the ball fast, executing rapid turns and pivots and taking long shots at the baskets. In a surprising number of instances, the ball found its mark.
“Say, they’re plenty good,” Dan admitted in a whisper. “Especially Pat.”
“Watch ’em guard,” Red replied, looking worried. “Rough as all get-out.”
Mr. Hatfield too, had observed the rough manner in which the boys played. As the practice session wound up, he remarked to Pat that it might be well for the Purple Five to study the rules before the first scheduled game.
“We play strictly according to the book,” he warned. “Any unnecessary roughness will go down as a foul.”
“You don’t have to worry about our team,” Pat replied boastfully. “We know the rules from Z to A.”
After ending the practice the Bay Shore boys took their time in leaving the church. They roved the corridors, peered down into the basement, and even into the Cub’s private clubroom.
One of the boys spied the cardboard fort which Fred had built. “Gee! Will you look at the playhouse!” he shouted.
Mr. Hatfield shooed the five wanderers out of the building. On the steps, Pat noticed the two ice cream freezers.
“When do we eat?” he demanded boisterously.
“You don’t,” Chips told him. “That’s for our party tonight.”
“Who is invited?”
“Only the parents of the Cubs.”
“Well, have a good time,” Pat said with a grin. “See you later.”
He peered again at the ice cream freezers, helped himself to a chunk of ice, and sauntered off.
The party that night began early. Soon after seven o’clock, the parents started to arrive. Dan, Fred and Chub were on the welcoming committee to greet everyone at the door. The other Cubs were stationed at various tables, ready to explain the various exhibits.
The fort which Fred had constructed drew a great deal of favorable comment. Several parents expressed the hope that the structure would be kept on display for a long while.
“Oh, we intend to use it,” Fred assured the group of admirers. “We’ll play Indian games and act out pioneer stuff. Maybe put on a little play.”
The Cubs were a bit impatient for the singing, the promotion ceremonies and other events to end. Eyeing the array of chocolate, angel food and spice cakes on the long supper table, they scarcely could wait until the moment came to eat.
Dan noticed that Chub seemed rather downcast. Sidling over to the younger boy, he asked him what was wrong.
“Nothing,” Chub mumbled.
“You’re not having a good time.”
“Yes, I am,” Chub insisted. “Wonderful!”
“Well, you don’t act like it. Your face is as long as a roller towel. What’s eating you?”
“Nothing,” Chub said again. And then he went on hurriedly: “It’s only that—that all the other Cubs have a mother and Dad here tonight. I’m all alone.”
“Sure, I know how you feel.” Dan clumsily flung an arm around the younger boy’s shoulders. “But don’t you care.”
He very much wanted to ask Chub about his mother and father. But recalling Mr. Hatfield’s advice not to ask questions, he remained silent.
Presently, Mrs. Hatfield announced that supper would be served. The parents lined up for their decorated paper plates, napkins, silverware and big piece of homemade cake.
“We’ll be ready to dish up the ice cream in a minute,” Mrs. Hatfield advised Dan and Brad. “Will you boys please fetch the freezers?”
“Sure thing,” Dan said eagerly.
He and Brad, together with Red who wanted to help, went out on the porch for the canvas-covered freezers.
Looking about, they could not see the containers anywhere.
“Say, what became of ’em?” Dan demanded.
“There’s the canvas,” Red noted. He pointed to the covering which lay in a heap on the ground near the steps.
“Do you suppose Mr. Hatfield moved them?” Brad speculated. “Wait, I’ll find out.”
He rushed back into the church, to return a moment later with the Cub leader. Mr. Hatfield assured the boys that he had not touched either of the freezers.
“When I came this way about thirty minutes ago, both were here.”
“Then someone has taken them!” Dan exclaimed.
“Who would do such a mean thing?” Red demanded. “Our party is ruined!”
Word spread like wildfire that the ice cream had been stolen. The other Cubs and some of the parents came out of the church to see for themselves.
“Say, I bet I know who took those freezers!” Chips cried.
“Who?” the others demanded.
“Pat Oswald and his gang.”
“It’s hardly fair to accuse them just because they used the gymnasium today,” Mr. Hatfield said rather mildly.
“Pat knew about the freezers,” Chips insisted. “He saw them here on the steps, and he asked about the party.”
Brad, with a pocket flashlight, had been examining the soft earth near the church steps.
“I’ve found a lot of shoe marks,” he called the attention of the Cubs to them. “Boys tracks, I’d judge by their size. Have you fellows been tramping around here today?”
“Haven’t been off the walk or the porch,” Dan said, and most of the Cubs gave a similar reply.
“Well, a gang of kids must have been here then,” Brad declared. “See the tracks lead toward the hedge. Here, you can tell that something heavy was dragged over the ground.”
“Maybe it was Pat and his gang!” Fred exclaimed. “Of all the mean ingratitude! We let ’em use our gym and equipment, and they repay us by stealing our ice cream!”
“We worked so hard to make it too!” Red added.
“We ought to call off our basketball games with ’em—that’s what,” Midge said indignantly.
Mr. Hatfield reminded the Cubs that they had no proof that the ice cream actually had been taken by Pat and his cronies.
“It looks highly suspicious,” he admitted, “but I’m in favor of giving the other fellow the benefit of the doubt.”
Several of the Den Dads toured the church yard, in search of the culprits. They returned to report no sign of the freezers, or the persons who had taken them. Evidently the theft had been accomplished nearly a half hour earlier, or at least long before the discovery of the loss.
“No chance of catching anyone now,” Mr. Hatfield said regretfully. “We may as well forget about it.”
“Forget it?” Midge wailed. “After all the work we did?”
“And you never tasted such wonderful ice cream,” Chips went on. “We only had tiny samples this afternoon. We were looking forward to big dishes tonight!”
“We’ll make ice cream another time,” Mr. Hatfield promised the Cubs.
“How can we, without freezers?” Dan asked. “The only ones we know about are at the old Christian Church. No chance of getting those.”
“And what about the ones that were stolen?” Brad asked, rather worried. “We don’t even know to whom they belong.”
The Cubs had inquired among the parents, but no one had admitted providing the two freezers. Even Mr. Hatfield was somewhat uneasy to think that later on, the unknown giver might call at the church to ask the return of his or her property.
“It’s very strange about those freezers—” he mused. “Very strange.”
Disconsolately, the Cubs trooped back into the church. They were resigned to a party without ice cream.
However, Midge’s father had slipped away to the drugstore without consulting anyone. Even before all the cake had been served, he was back with several large packages of ice cream. He also had bought some excellent strawberry topping.
“Now this isn’t as good as homemade ice cream,” he apologized. “On short notice though, it was the best substitute I could find.”
The Cubs ate their share of the ice cream and after a while tended to forget the injustice that had been done them. It relieved their minds to see that the parents didn’t seem to mind not having homemade ice cream. Despite the theft of the freezers, the party had been a great success.
“Now before we break up for the evening, I suggest we give the Cubs a big vote of thanks,” proposed Mr. Holloway. “All in favor—”
No one ever had an opportunity to join in the vote of appreciation. For at that moment there came a rap on the clubroom door.
Before anyone could open it, Terry Treuhaft stepped into the room. The old caretaker’s unexpected arrival startled everyone. No one could imagine what had brought him to the church uninvited.
Terry did not long leave the matter in doubt.
“I’ve come for my freezers,” he said and his voice fairly dripped icicles.
“YOUR freezers?” Red echoed. “Oh m’gosh!”
“I think you must be mistaken about us having your freezers,” Mr. Hatfield said politely.
“We haven’t any freezers at all,” declared Chips, rather enjoying the joke.
“I understand you do have the ones that were at the church,” the old caretaker said stiffly. “I was tipped that I’d find them here. Where are they?”
“Look around if you like,” Brad invited. “If you can find them, you’re better at hunting than we are.”
“None of your sass, young man or I’ll have the law on you,” Old Terry retorted. He felt ill at ease with so many parents gazing steadily at him.
“I’m sorry,” Brad apologized. “I did not intend to be impolite. I merely meant to emphasize that we do not have your freezers.”
“You did have them then.”
“That might be,” Mr. Hatfield admitted. “We did have a couple of ice cream freezers which were stolen earlier tonight. However, I certainly had no suspicion that they belonged to the Christian Church.”
“Well, you know now,” Old Terry retorted. “These Cubs, were after those freezers from the first, and that was what caused ’em to break in—”
“Just a minute,” interposed Mr. Hatfield. “The Cubs did not break into the Church. Of that I’m satisfied.”
“You may be satisfied, but the trustees aren’t! The Cubs will have to pay for the damage they did. Besides, I want those two freezers.”
“We haven’t a freezer on the premises,” Mr. Hatfield said again.
Wearily, he told the caretaker what had happened.
“You’re handing me a line about not knowing where those freezers came from,” Old Terry growled. “For that matter, how do I know they aren’t here somewhere?”
“You may look around, if you like,” Mr. Hatfield invited.
“Thanks, I’ll do that,” he replied.
Old Terry inspected the clubroom and then to the deepening annoyance of the Cubs and their parents, went down into the basement. Finally, he seemed satisfied that the missing freezers were not in the building.
“Mr. Treuhaft, won’t you have some cake and a dish of store ice cream?” Midge’s mother invited graciously.
“No, Ma’am, I won’t,” he declined the invitation. “I’m leaving now.”
He stomped out, allowing the door to bang behind him.
“Good riddance,” Red exclaimed.
The Cubs began to straighten the clubroom, preparatory to leaving. Everyone was tired and a little discouraged even though the party had been a success.
“Old Terry spoiled everything,” Dan said, expressing the sentiment of his Cubmates. “Do you suppose he could have been right?”
“About those stolen freezers belonging to the Christian Church?” Mr. Hatfield inquired.
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“I have a hunch they were the same ones, Dan.”
“Then we actually were using stolen freezers?”
“I’m afraid of it, Dan. Someone played a joke on us. Not a very nice joke either.”
“Then we’re guilty of what they said!”
“We’re not guilty of anything, Dan. If those freezers were taken from the church and delivered here, how were we to know who brought them or why? We accepted the gift in good faith.”
“The trustees will have a better case than ever against us now.”
“They may try to make something of the incident. However, I don’t propose to worry about it.”
“Think how much worse it would have been for us, if Old Terry actually had found the freezers,” Brad chuckled. “As it is, he has no evidence.”
“That’s so,” Dan agreed relaxing. “Whoever swiped the ice cream, did us a small favor. I only wish I knew for sure whether or not Pat had a finger in the deal.”