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"We'll go ahead now since you're all so eager," Mr. Hatfield finally announced. "But remember, this is a friendly compet.i.tion. How you win is more important than who wins."
All the Cubs and their parents gathered at the beach to watch the event.
Fred and Midge willingly relinquished their paddles to Brad and Dan.
"Win that plaque for us!" Fred urged as the pair took their places in the canoe.
"We'll sure try!" Dan promised with a grin.
At a given signal, the two canoes were off! Ross and Donald made a flashy start, immediately taking the lead.
Fl.u.s.tered by being caught off guard, Brad and Dan did not at once coordinate their efforts. By the time they began to work as a unit, Ross and Donald already had gained an alarming lead.
"Dig in, Dan!" Brad urged, increasing his own efforts.
The course was so short that both boys knew the race would be over almost before they could regain lost ground.
Dan's paddle dipped smoothly and fast. His keen eyes sweeping the water made a startling discovery.
The course had been laid out in such a way that it included a stretch of the swift current which flowed down-river to the hidden cave.
Ross and Donald obviously were unaware that their canoe was traveling parallel to the ribbon of fast water.
"Brad!" Dan exclaimed, directing his companion's gaze to the current.
The older boy instantly saw the fast water, and with a hard surge of the paddle, could have steered the Den 2 canoe into it. But he hesitated.
"Would it be fair?" he muttered.
Dan understood what his friend meant. Ross and Donald were unaware of the fast current which if utilized, undoubtedly would give a canoeist a decided advantage.
Once in the swift-moving ribbon of water, the Den 2 canoe easily might overtake the other craft. But would it then be a test of skill? Hadn't Mr. Hatfield said that it wasn't winning that mattered but the manner in which victory was achieved that counted?
"Skip it," he answered Brad's terse question. "We'll win by our own skill, or not at all."
The finish line now was close at hand. Knowing that the honor of Den 2 depended entirely upon them, Brad and Dan dug in with their paddles. They had to win! The Cubs were expecting them to save the silver plaque. But could they do it? The race was so short.
Along sh.o.r.e the Cubs of both dens were cheering for their particular den mates. Dan and Brad heard the shouts but were only vaguely aware of them.
Slash! Slash! Their paddles lashed the water cleanly, sending the canoe forward in smooth spurts.
"Keep it up!" Brad encouraged. "We're gaining!"
Dan nodded, not wasting breath in a reply. The distance between the two canoes rapidly was dwindling. If only the finish line were not so close!
Ross and Donald realized they were losing ground. Uneasily Ross looked over his shoulder to see how hard they were being pushed. For an instant he held his paddle, missing a stroke. The bow swung off course.
Before Ross could bring it back into a straight line, Dan and Brad surged ahead. The two canoes raced evenly.
By this time all the Cubs ash.o.r.e were shouting like maniacs. "Come on Dan! Brad!" some of the boys yelled, while others cheered Donald and Ross to greater efforts.
The finish line loomed up. An instant before it was reached, Brad put all his strength into a final thrust of the paddle. The canoe fairly leaped forward, crossing the finish line a half length ahead of the other craft.
Den 2 had won! The plaque had been saved!
CHAPTER 20 THE TURQUOISE TOAD
Dr. Evans had just come from Webster City Hospital with a report for Mr.
Hatfield concerning Old Miquel.
"The old fellow's coming around nicely," he informed the Cub leader. "A day or two of complete bed rest and he'll be as good as ever. Quite a character! I had a long talk with him."
"Did Dan guess right about him?"
"Absolutely. The old coot is a Navajo medicine man. He carved the face at the ravine though he has little recollection of doing it. So far as I can determine, he suffered a severe head blow which caused a memory lapse.
Apparently, he hopped a freight, and must have been tossed off here at Webster City. Having no money, he took to living in the woods."
"Did he tell you anything about the turquoise, doctor?"
"About the same as Dan learned. The tribal treasure was entrusted to him.
He sticks to his story of giving it to a trading post man by the name of Howard Brandall. I wired him and received confirmation. The turquoise is still in his safe. He didn't know the tribe considered it lost or stolen."
"That's fine!" Mr. Hatfield said heartily. "Then there's no reason why Old Miquel can't soon return to the west?"
"None whatsoever. By the way, what became of those two Indians who tried to avenge the tribe?"
"White Nose and Eagle Feather? No one has seen them since they left the cave this morning."
Dr. Evans consulted his watch. "It's now after four o'clock," he noted.
"They should be found, if they're still in Webster City."
"I'll call the Cubs of both dens together and see if we can round them up," Mr. Hatfield promised. "They should be told the truth about Old Miquel."
Though the Pack ceremonies long since had ended, nearly all of the Cubs had remained at the Holloway camp, swimming and enjoying the beach. By now though, all were dressed in their uniforms again.
Summoning the Cubs, Mr. Hatfield asked them to be on the lookout for the two Indians.
"Until they're found, it will be unsafe for Old Miquel to be released from the hospital," he added.
Brad and Dan were especially eager to join in the search. Their first mission, however, was to return to Professor Sarazen the Navajo blanket found in the cave. After that, they went to the grocery store, thinking that the two Indians might have been seen there.
The storekeeper informed them that neither Eagle Feather nor White Nose had returned that afternoon.
"I'll bet they've left town," Dan remarked as the day wore on.
"It begins to look that way," Brad agreed. "Since we can't find 'em, we'll have to give up the search for the time being."