Dan Carter and the Great Carved Face Part 22

"Not the paddles?"

"One of them. The other may be there too. I was pulled in before I had a chance to find out. The paddle I saw was back against the wall of the cave, behind the pile of balsam."

"How'd it get out of the pool?" Dan speculated. "Someone must have fished it out."

"Oh, someone's using the cave all right," Mr. Hatfield responded. "A rugged individual accustomed to living out-of-doors."

"Maybe that mysterious fellow who's been doing the carving at the ravine!" Red exclaimed.

"Could be," Mr. Hatfield agreed thoughtfully. "It's just as well we didn't find him at home. We'll turn the job of eviction over to the park authorities."

"You mean we're not going to have a chance to explore the cave?" Chips demanded. "I say! Dan and Brad have all the fun."

"There will be plenty of time to inspect the cave later on," Mr. Hatfield rea.s.sured him. "But routing out whoever is hiding in there isn't our job."

"Mr. Hatfield's right," Mr. Holloway backed him up. "Anyone who would chose to live in a cave must be either a fugitive or slightly demented.

The fellow may be armed."

The Cubs were disappointed that they were not to be given a chance to explore the cave for awhile. But they realized their leaders had made a wise decision.

"You spoke about having a scare while we were in the cave," Mr. Hatfield reminded the Den Dad. "What happened?"

"Oh, nothing serious. As we waited, Mack thought he heard someone prowling about in the bushes above the cave entrance."

"I did too," Mack insisted.

"It took us awhile to scramble up there because the rocks are steep," Mr.

Holloway went on. "We didn't find anyone. We had a feeling though, that we'd been watched."

"You probably were right about it too," Mr. Hatfield replied. "It's almost certain someone is living in the cave."

The air had grown chilly. Dan, Brad and Mr. Hatfield, whose clothing was soaked to above the knees, had begun to feel rather uncomfortable. Mr.

Holloway proposed that they all hike back to camp as quickly as possible.

Brad and Dan, bringing up the rear of the procession, were more silent than the other Cubs as they scrambled over the rocks to the strip of beach.

Reflecting upon the many strange happenings of the past few days, they were convinced that Mr. Hatfield was right in a.s.suming that the cave had an inhabitant.

It occurred to Dan that the man who had taken refuge there might indeed be the medicine man sought by White Nose and Eagle Feather.

"Do you suppose that bird, whoever he is, has Professor Sarazen's blanket tucked away somewhere in the cave?" he mused aloud.

"I was asking myself the same thing," replied Brad. "I sure hope we get another chance to explore before too long. We ought to get that blanket back before our Indian pow-wow."

The camp near Mr. Holloway's home was shrouded in evening shadow as the Cubs trudged in. Heavy clouds had overspread the sky, causing darkness to come on somewhat earlier than usual.

"I'm ashamed to have kept the Cubs so late," Mr. Hatfield apologized. "I hope your parents won't be sore, fellows."

"I'll take everyone to town in my car," Mr. Holloway offered. "Special delivery service tonight."

The Cubs quickly went about the camp, gathering up the few belongings they had left behind. Everyone was relieved that nothing seemed to be missing. None of the tools had been disturbed.

"All set?" Mr. Hatfield inquired, ready to leave.

"Just a minute," called Dan. "I want to look at something."

Brad was exasperated. "We're late now," he complained. "That Dan-he has to go kiss his sand painting goodnight. He watches over it as if it were a baby."

"He's done a fine job on it so far," Mr. Holloway said warmly. "He'll only be a minute."

Dan, however, was gone so long that the Cubs began to grumble.

"What's the matter with him anyhow?" Fred muttered. "He must be caressing every grain of sand! I'm going after him."

"Here he comes now," Midge observed.

Dan came quickly to the group. He plainly was very angry.

"It's happened again!" he burst out.

"What's happened?" Brad asked.

"My sand painting has been ruined! There was no wind to amount to anything either! This time I know it was done deliberately."

"Well, for crying out loud!" Red cried indignantly. "Who is pulling this stuff? I say it's time we get that guy and poke him in the nose!"

The Cubs and their leaders went back with Dan to view the painting. All trace of it had been obliterated.

"Even my materials are gone this time," Dan said bitterly. "I mixed the colors so carefully too. I'm through!"

"We can't blame you for feeling that way after twice losing your picture," Mr. Hatfield said sympathetically. "This time we may as well forget about it, Dan. You've more than done your part."

Dan remained silent for a moment, a little ashamed of his outburst.

"I suppose I could try it again," he said after a moment. "Time's short though. And there's no a.s.surance that the sand painting wouldn't be ruined a third time."

"Someone's doing it out of meanness!" Red declared. "I still think Ross may have a finger in it."

"We've just run into bad luck, that's all," Brad said. "Our troubles began when we lost the paddles and the blanket. Without a sand painting, I guess Den 1 will outshine us in the handicraft contest. But it can't be helped. It's not Dan's fault."

"I'm willing to start another painting," Dan offered doggedly. "Maybe we could set up a guard to watch."

Mr. Hatfield opposed this suggestion. "Someone would have to stay here on a twenty-four-hour schedule, Dan. That isn't practical."

"I guess not," Dan admitted gloomily.

"We're tired and discouraged tonight," Mr. Hatfield resumed. "Suppose we decide what to do about the painting tomorrow. Meanwhile, maybe Mr.

Holloway or I will have an inspiration."