Dan Carter Cub Scout Part 11

Silverton said this morning not to allow any Cubs ever to set foot on his land again!"

"Mr. Silverton gave such an order?" Brad gasped in disbelief.

"He sure did," Dobbs retorted in great satisfaction. "You broke the rules by going into the restricted area, so now you can take your medicine!"

"You won't listen to our explanation!" Dan broke in hotly. "At least give us a chance to talk to Mr. Silverton."

"I told you he won't see you and that's final!"

Angrily, Saul Dobbs grasped Dan by the shoulders and turned him squarely around in the path. "Now git!"

"You're just making that up about Mr. Silverton not wanting to see us!"

Chips shouted, ready to do battle in Dan's defense. "You mean you don't want us to talk to him."

Brad placed a restraining hand on the excited boy's shoulder.

"Come on, Chips," he advised. "No sense making a fuss. We'll see Mr.

Silverton later on."

"Like fun you will," Saul Dobbs muttered as the four Cubs started away.

"I'm telling you, he's had his fill of young tereduns."

Completely discouraged, the boys treked back to the village. By now they were firmly convinced that if Dobbs had not poisoned Mr. Silverton's mind against them, he would do so at the first opportunity.

"This is getting serious," Brad said. "We've got to see Silverton somehow, even if it means calling his office every day."

Warm and out-of-sorts from the long hike, the four boys dropped in at a village drugstore for ice cream. The proprietor glanced rather sharply at them as they entered a booth at the rear of the store, or so it seemed to Brad.

"Anything wrong with us today?" he remarked to the Cubs. "Everyone seems to give us the icy stare."

"Hadn't noticed it," Dan replied, reaching for the menu.

"Well, maybe I imagined it," the Den Chief shrugged.

But later, after the four had finished their ice cream, Chips paused at the counter rack a moment to flip the pages of a comic magazine.

"No loitering," the drugstore owner reprimanded him. "If you've finished eating, go on outside. I can't have you cluttering up the place."

"Well, for crying out loud!" Chips remonstrated. "We'll be glad to leave, and we won't come back either!"

Indignant over the rebuff, the four boys paid their bill and left the drugstore. However, Brad was deeply disturbed by what had occurred.

"We weren't doing anything," he said. "Chips barely had glanced at the magazine when the proprietor jumped him."

"Just another old crab!" declared Red. "This town's full of 'em."

"I'm afraid there's more to it than that," Brad said uneasily. "When we first went into the drugstore, the proprietor glanced at our uniforms in a rather odd-almost contemptuous way."

"Our uniforms?" Dan repeated, puzzled. "What's wrong with the Cub uniform?"

"Nothing. But he looked at us almost as if he were down on Cubs in general. And earlier, that grocery store owner seemed to give us the cold shoulder."

"He did at that," recalled Red. "The last time we were here with Mr.

Hatfield he was beaming at us as if we were favorite sons."

"Even strangers on the street grinned at us and acted friendly just because we were Cubs," Dan added. "How do you explain the sudden change?"

"I don't know, but I have a hunch-" Brad began, only to allow his voice to trail off.

A large blue automobile rounded the corner, taking the main highway toward Webster City. Both Brad and Dan recognized the driver as Paul Silverton.

"There he is now!" Brad exclaimed. "Maybe he's driving back to his office."

"Let's trail him there, and have this thing out," Chips urged. "We ought to catch him, if we hike right back to Webster City."

Brad however, had a better idea. Knowing that Mr. Silverton might go to his home rather than the office, he suggested that they wait fifteen minutes, and then telephone for an appointment.

"That's the ticket!" approved Dan.

As the Cubs loitered around the village streets, they became increasingly aware of unfriendly stares directed toward them. While not everyone they met seemed hostile, now and then they were scrutinized with an intent gaze which made them uncomfortable.

"Have we got measles or something?" Red muttered.

"Someone has been doing us dirt in this town," Brad volunteered his opinion. "And I have a hunch who it is too!"

"Saul Dobbs?" Dan demanded.

"I'm not making any accusations just yet. After we've talked to Mr.

Silverton we may have the answer. Come on, let's make that telephone call."

Seeking another drugstore at the edge of the village, the Cubs dialed the number of Mr. Silverton's office. Again they were informed he had not returned.

Brad next called the sportsman's home. Finally, after considerable delay, he heard Mr. Silverton on the other end of the line.

"Mr. Silverton," he began, in his eagerness, talking too rapidly. "I'm sorry to bother you at your home, but there's an important matter the Cubs feel should be straightened out. It's about visiting your pheasant farm-"

"You're one of those boys who came to my office?"

"Yes, I'm Brad Wilbur."

"Well, get this!" said Mr. Silverton speaking with biting accent "Your privileges are at an end! Now don't bother me again!"

"Mr. Silverton, let me explain," Brad said quickly. "I a.s.sure you we didn't deliberately break our promise-"

"You'll explain nothing to me," the sportsman replied. "I've seen quite enough of your behavior. The Cubs may consider themselves lucky if I don't notify their parents and the police!"

And with that remark, Mr. Silverton slammed the telephone receiver.

Brad, bewildered by the tongue lashing he had received, called the telephone number again. But Mr. Silverton would not answer.