Dan Carter And The Money Box Part 33

"I really mean it, Jack. You should know by this time that when I give my word I keep it."

Jack debated with himself only a moment longer. Then he arrived at his decision.

"I want to stay here," he said earnestly. "I'll do whatever you tell me to-and I ain't crossin' my fingers when I say it, either! You can switch me whenever you want to and I won't try to take the switch away from you."

"Now that's right considerate of you, Jack," Mrs. Jones smiled. "We'll get along fine from now on. And we won't need that switch again."

"I'll fill the woodbox," Jack offered eagerly. "You're most out of kindling."

Mrs. Jones hauled him up short. "That job can wait, Jack. You got something else more important to do."

"Tell us everything you know about the tin box," Mr. Hatfield urged.

"You'll be doing the Cubs a real service, Jack. You see, not only myself but the entire organization has been under a cloud since the money disappeared."

"I ain't sure what became of it, but I may know," Jack admitted.

"Then suppose you tell us," the Cub leader urged.

"I'll show you instead," Jack offered. "Follow me to the woods, and you may see something kinda interesting!"

CHAPTER 17 Through the Window

Skirting the marsh, Jack led the Cubs deep into the shadowy woods.

Apparently he had gone that way often, for he seldom hesitated in choosing the trail.

"Where do you think he's taking us?" Dan speculated, bringing up the rear with Brad.

"It has me guessing, Dan. He seems to know where's he's going though. I have a hunch he may show us something that will have an important bearing."

After a brisk five-minute hike through the woods, Jack abruptly halted.

"If you want to see anything, you got to be quiet from here on," he warned.

All conversation ceased. Still led by Jack, the Cubs moved on at a slower pace. Carefully they trod, taking care not to step on sticks or dry leaves.

Presently Jack again halted. This time he did not speak.

However, the Cubs, gathering close about, saw that they had neared their destination.

Directly ahead, in a tiny clearing close to the stream, stood a crude shack. Side walls were badly built from odd-shaped lumber which the Cubs guessed had been taken from near-by construction jobs.

The flat roof was made of tar paper. Some of it had torn loose and flapped in the light breeze.

"You didn't build the shack?" Mr. Hatfield whispered to Jack. He had noted a tiny curl of smoke rising lazily from a tin pipe cut through the roof.

Jack shook his head. Motioning for the Cubs to follow, he moved in a little closer.

"Who lives there?" Brad whispered, impatient for information.

"Wait," Jack said. "We'll get in close, and maybe you can see for yourselves."

"If we all move in, we'll likely be seen," Mr. Hatfield insisted.

It was decided that Jack, Mr. Hatfield, Brad and Dan should go on ahead, leaving the others in the shelter of the trees.

Moving softly over the uneven ground, the trio crept close to the shack.

Keeping close to the wall, they reached a broken pane of gla.s.s which served as the only window.

Jack pressed his face against it and nodded in satisfaction.

"He's in there! Have a look!"

Jack moved back to allow Dan to take his place.

The boy peered into the dark interior of the shack. At first he caught only an impression of an empty room with an old box which served as a table.

Then gradually he made out a balsam-bough bed on the floor, covered with an army blanket. Sprawled on the bed, fully clothed was a man with a stubbly beard.

"It's that same fellow who looked in the church window!" Dan murmured, startled to recognize him.

"Careful, Dan!" Mr. Hatfield warned, for in his excitement, the boy very nearly had spoken aloud. "Let me have a look."

Dan moved aside so that both the Cub leader and Brad might peer at the stranger.

"It's the same man all right," Brad confirmed Dan's identification. "He's dead to the world!"

Mr. Hatfield had turned to Jack. "This is all very interesting," he whispered. "But you promised to show us something that might explain about the missing money box."

"I can't show you while he's in there. But he's got it."

"Not the money?"

"Sure." Jack thoroughly enjoyed his knowledge.

"How do you know this, Jack? Did you see the box?"

"Right from this very window. I was wandering through the woods late one afternoon when I came onto this shack. I was curious, so I sneaked up and looked in."

"And this same tramp was living in there?" Dan asked. "When was that?"

"Oh, I didn't find the shack until a couple of days ago. I don't know how long it's been here."

"Tell us about the money box," Mr. Hatfield urged.

"Well, as I looked through the window, I saw that tramp take it out from under his bed. While I watched, he counted the money. I saw a lot of bills in neat stacks."