Dan Carter and the Money Box
Mildred A. Wirt
Produced by Stephen Hutcheson and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
Triumphantly, he brought out the tin box."Dan Carter and the Money Box" (_See Page 188_)
Dan Carter and the Money Box
by Mildred A. Wirt
Illustrated
CUPPLES AND LEON COMPANY Publishers New York
Copyright, 1950, by CUPPLES AND LEON COMPANY _All Rights Reserved_
DAN CARTER AND THE MONEY BOX
Printed in the United States of America
Contents
1 The Stranger in the Storm 1 2 The Metal Box 13 3 Jack, the Runaway 27 4 High Water 35 5 Two Claimants 43 6 A "Tough" Customer 54 7 The Last Straw 64 8 Round Table Plans 73 9 A "Deserted" House 85 10 Widow Jones 92 11 "Do Your Best" 100 12 A Pair of Legs 111 13 Hot Biscuits 121 14 Beside the Camp Fire 140 15 A Hint from Jack 151 16 Inside the Log 160 17 Through the Window 177 18 Pursuit 190 19 "I Promise" 197 20 Knights of the Round Table 208
CHAPTER 1 The Stranger in the Storm
Burrowing deep into the hoods of their slickers, the two Cub Scoutshastened along the darkening street.
Stinging gusts of rain pelted their faces. The strong wind fairly bowledthem off their feet.
"Say Brad, this is awful!"
"It's sure coming down--and how!" agreed the older boy.
Brad Wilber, dark-haired and serious, was a Boy Scout and a leader amongthe younger boys. An outstanding athlete and nearly ready for highschool, he served as Den Chief of the Webster City Cubs.
His companion, the blue-eyed, sandy-haired Dan Carter, had just turnedten.
Firm of muscle and old for his years, the younger boy grew so fast it washard to keep him in Cub uniforms.
He and Brad had been good friends ever since Sam Hatfield had organizedDen 2. On this particular evening, they had been overtaken by the stormon their way to a Cub meeting at the church.
"Say, let's hold up a second!" Dan gasped as a heavy curtain of rainveiled the sidewalk ahead.
The pair halted a moment under a store awning, there to catch theirbreath.
"This may turn to ice or sleet before the night's over," Brad saidanxiously. "Then watch the cars pile up!"
"It's almost cold enough for sleet," Dan agreed with a shiver. "The stormcertainly rolled in fast. Maybe Sam Hatfield decided to call off the Cubmeeting."
Brad moved back against the building wall to escape the awning drip. "NotSam," he said cheerfully. "He knows the Cubs are tough. Anyway, we're alittle late. The others are probably at the church now, waiting for us."
From their shelter the two boys could see the church building a halfblock ahead, on the opposite side of the street.
The windows on the lower floor shone dimly through the wall of rain.
"The place is lighted, so Sam must be there at least," Brad commented."Shall we go on now? We don't want to be late and hold up the meeting."
"Okay," Dan agreed, buttoning his slicker which had pulled apart.
Heads low, they bored directly into the wind. The rain scarcely hadslackened. Droplets dashed into their eyes, completely blinding them.
The boys were nearly opposite the church when Brad, who was ahead, ranfull tilt into a man huddling against a building wall.
"I'm sorry," the boy apologized. "I didn't see you standing there."
"Watch where you're going next time!" the other growled.
Because the man spoke in such a surly tone, Brad looked him overcarefully.
The fellow was no one he ever had seen before. His face, beneath asnap-brim hat which dripped rain, appeared shadowy and unfriendly. Hemight have been thirty years of age, maybe older. A day-old beard made itdifficult to judge.
"Sorry," Brad apologized again.
He and Dan started on, only to be stopped in their tracks by a question.
"Hey, kids," the stranger addressed them, "what's going on over there?"
"Over where?" demanded Dan.
"In that church. It's lighted up like a Christmas tree."
"Oh, just a Cub meeting," Dan explained briefly.
Again he and Brad tried to move away, but the stranger more or lessblocked the street.
"A Cub meeting?" the man echoed. "What's that?"
Brad had a feeling that the stranger in asking such a stupid question wasstalling for time. He seemed to be looking over the two boys, studyingthem.
"It's the younger boy program of the Boy Scouts of America," Bradexplained briefly. "We have a whale of a lot of fun."
"But what's the church doing all lighted up?"
"Dan told you," Brad said patiently. "The Cubs are having their monthlymeeting."
His answer still did not satisfy the stranger. "But the church has beenclosed, hasn't it?" he mumbled.
"That's right." Brad began to edge away for he resented the delay.
"The church was closed nearly a month while repairs were made on theheating system," Dan added. "Now the work is finished, so services willbe held again."
Muttering something, the stranger turned and slouched off in the rain.
"Queer duck," Brad commented as he and Dan started to cross the floodedstreet. "What did he mumble?"
"I'm not sure I caught it right. I thought he said: 'A fine thing!'"
"Must be a screwball, Dan. Somehow I didn't like his appearance."
"Same here. His eyes were so intent they gave me the creeps. Wonder whyhe was interested in the church anyhow?"
"Oh, idle curiosity, I suppose. You didn't know him?"
"Never clapped eyes on him before," Dan replied, leaping over a river ofgutter flow. "He must be new in Webster City."
The boys had reached the vestibule of the church.
Brad pulled open the heavy double doors and they went in out of the rain.Shaking out their slickers, they hung them up before entering the mainpart of the church.
The room smelled of fresh paint and seemed rather cold. Lights were on,however.
Hearing voices, Brad and Dan tramped on back to a small meeting chamberin the rear of the building.
All of the Cubs had gathered there--Chips Davis, Midge Holloway, RedSuell, Fred Hatfield, and Babe Bunning, the youngest addition to the Den.
Babe, whose real name was Clarence, barely had passed his eighthbirthday.
Because he was the youngest Cub in the Den the fellows made it a littletough for him, calling him Babe Bunning instead of his real name.
/> Babe didn't like to be kidded, but he was game--all the Cubs admittedthat.
"Say, we thought you guys weren't coming," Chips greeted Brad and Dan."How'd you get here anyhow?"
"On a raft," Dan bantered. "Hit a lamppost on Main Street and had to swimthe rest of the way."
"Oh, go on!" Chips laughed. "I guess the storm's let up."
"Like fun it has," Dan corrected. "Look at the rain sluicing down thosewindows."
Sam Hatfield, the assistant Cub leader, seemed unconcerned about thestorm. He told the boys he had his car parked at the rear of the church.If the rain failed to let up before the meeting ended, he planned to takeeveryone home.
"And now let's forget the storm and get down to business," he said,calling the meeting to order. "We have some important matters to take uptonight."
To stir their blood and start the session off, the boys gave the Cubyell.
Like healthy young wolves, they howled in unison: "A-h-h-kay Iaa! W-e-e-ld-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-r Best!"
"And that's exactly what I hope we'll do in the job that's ahead ofus--our best," Mr. Hatfield emphasized as the room became quiet again."You fellows know why I called you here tonight?"
"It's something about the church building fund, isn't it?" Midge Hollowayrecalled. He had heard his father, one of the Den "Dads" mention thematter at home.
"That's right," Mr. Hatfield agreed. "As everyone knows, we need a newchurch or, at the very least, another wing. Now that temporary repairshave been made, the building can be kept open another year or so. Ourcrying need, though, is for a new building."
"A campaign is under way to raise funds, isn't it?" Brad remarked, forMr. Hatfield had discussed the matter with him.
"Yes, Brad. The church trustees have asked the Cub Scouts to pitch in andhelp. What do you say, fellows?"
"How much will we have to raise?" Chips asked, running a hand through hisshort-cropped hair.
"No definite sum has been set. We'll be given a list of prospects to see.Whatever we raise will be that much to the good."
"I vote we do it," said Brad.
"Same here," agreed Dan heartily. "We've used the church meeting room, soit's only fair we help 'em a little."
Midge, Red, Babe and Fred said they were willing to go along with theidea, even though it meant hard work.
Chips gave consent by silence. Never as enthusiastic a worker as theother Cubs, he wasn't too keen over the thought of ringing doorbells.
Mr. Hatfield gave the boys instructions and handed out pledge cards.
"Our program this month isn't entirely one of hard work," the Cub leaderthen said cheerfully. "How many of you have read the story of KingArthur's Knights of the Round Table?"
Three hands waved in the breeze, and all faces brightened.
"We're using the King Arthur theme to dramatize important points in a Cubcrusade to "Strengthen the Arm of Liberty," Mr. Hatfield went on. "We'llmake our own Round Table, armor, spears and maybe horses for the knightsto ride. How does the idea strike you fellows?"
"Swell!" shouted three of the Cubs.
The other boys were equally excited. Eagerly they plied the Cub Scoutleader with questions. How would the Round Table be made? What would theyuse for armor?
"One question at a time," laughed Mr. Hatfield. "It would be great if wecould build a huge oak table such as King Arthur and his knights used inthe old days. I'm afraid it would be an ambitious attempt."
"Can't we use an old dining-room table--one that's circular?" Bradsuggested.
"That's what I had in mind. By the way, who knows why King Arthur used around table?"
Dan, who had read the book, had an answer. "Wasn't it so he could providea place of equal importance for every knight?"
"That's right, Dan. A round table has no foot or head. Each knight wasthe equal of every other knight. It's the same way here in America. Oneperson has the same rights as another."
"When will we start making armor and spears?" asked Midge impatiently.
"We'll gather together the articles we need and maybe start in at ourmeeting next week. Mrs. Holloway, the Den Mother, has promised to help."Mr. Hatfield told the Cubs they would need cardboard, silver or goldpaint, burlap and several other items.
"We'll make banners and turn this room into a regular King Arthur'sCourt," he declared. "The place right now is as cold as an ancientcastle! Wonder what happened to that fire I built?"
Mr. Hatfield had noticed that despite jackets, several of the Cubs wereshivering.
A little heat was rising from the registers. But not much.
"Want me to take a look at the furnace?" Brad offered.
"It might be a good idea," agreed the Cub leader. "Toss in three or fourshovels of coal."
"I'll go with you, Brad," Dan offered.
The two boys descended a narrow, dimly lighted stairway to the churchbasement.
Walls were damp to the touch. In several places water oozed in throughcracks in the decaying masonry.
Cobwebs hung from the overhead beams. In the semi-darkness, Dan ran intoone, cringing as it wrapped silken threads about his throat.
"Glug, glug," he entoned, making a strangling sound. "I'm being choked todeath!"
"Cut it out!" Brad ordered. He reached for a switch and the basement roombecame flooded with light. "What you trying to do? Work up a case ofnerves?"
Dan laughed and opened the iron door of the cavernous furnace.
Mr. Hatfield had built his fire well, but it needed more fuel.
"I'll heave some in," he offered.
While Brad poked at the coals, Dan went to the bin.
The shovel had disappeared. But after hunting a while, he found it behindthe bin door.
Selecting smaller lumps, Dan fed the furnace two large shovelfuls. Thecoals leaped into fiery flame.
"Better give 'er a couple more for good measure," Brad advised.
Dan trotted back to the bin. As his shovel bit deep into the coal pile,it struck an object which gave off a metallic sound.
Curious as to what it might be, the boy dug deeper. His shovel brought toview a square metal box approximately a foot square.
"Jeepers creepers!" he whispered in awe. "How'd this get here?"
