Dan Carter And The Money Box Part 11

"We won't take much of your time, Mr. Merrimac," Dan urged.

"Oh, all right, come in," the old man consented. "I warn you though, you must come directly to the point. I haven't felt well lately, and it makes me nervous to hear a lot of chatter."

Brad and Dan followed their unwilling host into the living room.

The evidence was overpowering that Mr. Merrimac lived alone. Although the room was well furnished, everything was covered with dust.

Newspapers had been dropped where read. Cigar ashes littered the rugs.

Blinds which were three-quarters lowered, gave the entire room a gloomy atmosphere.

"I had a bad scare the other night," Mr. Merrimac said, picking up a book so that Dan could seat himself on the sofa. "Someone tried to break in."

"You live here by yourself?" Brad inquired.

"I do since Hayes left me. He was my butler. Said he could make more than I was paying. So the ungrateful scoundrel quit on three days notice. I've been unable to find anyone to take his place."

"You have had your troubles," Brad said. "Maybe you'd rather we came back some other day."

"No, we may as well get this over with," the old man sighed. "If my name is on the list, I'll be pestered until I give 'em something. How much am I down for? Ten dollars?"

Brad let him have it straight.

"Five hundred, Mr. Merrimac."

"Five hundred!" The elderly man's voice rose to an indignant screech.

"What do they think I am? A wealthy man?"

"I believe you contributed that much last year to the Community Chest,"

Brad said, consulting a memorandum on the back side of the pledge card.

"The church really needs your help."

"It certainly does," added Dan. "The heating plant is shot and a good stiff wind might blow the building over!"

Mr. Merrimac permitted himself a tight, half-amused smile. "It's hardly that bad, Dan," he said. "I'll admit though, that we need a new church.

The cause is a worthy one."

"Then how much may we put you down for?" Brad asked, taking out a fountain pen.

"I'm not prepared to make any pledge at this time."

"But Mr. Merrimac, you're our best prospect-"

"I hate to disappoint you, Brad," Mr. Merrimac said soberly. "I honestly do. The truth is, I've had rather distressing business losses recently. I can't afford to make a pledge at this time."

Brad and Dan were at a loss for an argument. Mr. Hatfield had warned them that Mr. Merrimac might be inclined to whittle down the five hundred dollar pledge. But even the Cub leader had not expected such stiff resistance as this.

"How much have you lost?" Dan inquired. After speaking, he realized that the question was a very personal one.

"Several thousand," Mr. Merrimac answered shortly. "It was stolen from my library. I kept the money in a metal box locked in a desk."

"A metal box!" Dan exclaimed. "Oh, can you beat that!"

"I'm sure I don't understand," said Mr. Merrimac in perplexity.

"You must have heard about the Cubs finding a money box at the church,"

Brad replied quietly. He was watching the elderly man very closely, wondering whether or not he might be acting a part.

"The Cubs found a money box? My box?"

"We don't know whose box it is," Brad said. "That's for the police to decide."

Mr. Merrimac had grown rather excited. "If you found a box at the church it must have been the one that was stolen from me!"

"If you can prove your claim, you're welcome to it," Brad returned, arising to leave. "It's only fair to warn you though, that two other persons already have said it belongs to them."

Mr. Merrimac pursued the boys to the door. Eagerly he plied them for more information. Dan and Brad, however, were in no mood to be pumped.

"You'll have to see Mr. Hatfield or the police about it," Brad told him firmly. "It's none of our affair. We merely came here in the interests of the building fund campaign."

"Oh, yes, the building fund," the old man recalled. "Boys, if you'll help me recover my money, I'll make it right with you. I'll pledge the five hundred dollars. I might even give more."

Brad and Dan had reached the end of their patience.

"Thanks, Mr. Merrimac," Dan said dryly. "We'll remember."

Scarcely bidding the old man goodbye, the two Cubs hurriedly left the house.

Once beyond hearing, they gave vent to their feelings.

"Three claimants now!" Dan exclaimed. "This positively is the last straw!"

"We come here to get a pledge from old Money Bags, and what does he do?"

Brad added. "Why, he turns around and tries to file claim to the money box. I give up!"

CHAPTER 7 The Last Straw

Discouragement weighed heavily upon Dan and Brad as they left Mr.

Merrimac's home.

The bakery owner had been their No. 1 prospect and without a donation from him they knew the Den never could make a good showing in the solicitation.

"Mr. Hatfield gave us Mr. Merrimac's name because he thought we were the best collectors," Brad said in disgust. "Well, we m.u.f.fed it."

"We caught him in a bad mood," Dan replied, equally sunk in gloom. "Do you think the old cod really lost money as he claimed? Or was it just another trick?"