Part 13 (1/2)
”Well, Chips and Red wouldn't do a thing like that,” Dan said rather lamely. ”After all, they're Cubs.”
”And Cubs need feathers for Indian headgears!” Mr. Silverton retorted.
Having delivered this parting shot, he dropped the Wolf badge at Dan's feet, and without another word, walked into the house.
CHAPTER 7 A Night Excursion
Brad and Dan were too stunned by Mr. Silverton's final accusation to make any attempt to follow him toward the house.
As they stood gazing after the sportsman, the gardener in an attempt to soften his employer's dismissal, said kindly:
”Mr. Silverton's out of sorts today, lads. It was a blow to him losing those pheasants. He sets great store by 'em.”
”We told him the truth,” Brad said, stooping to pick up the Wolf badge from the gra.s.s. ”The Cubs never intended to break any rules. As for killing the pheasants-well, I can't believe it!”
The gardener leaned comfortably on his hoe. ”It's like the boss said,” he observed. ”You may be honest and square yourselves, but how can you vouch for your friends? You didn't see what they did while they were alone?”
”No, but-”
”And showing those Indian feathers at the village the way they did,” the gardener went on. ”Why, it was circ.u.mstantial evidence! When Dobbs told around that the Cubs had trespa.s.sed, it was only natural folks would put two and two together.”
”So that was what Mr. Silverton meant when he spoke of the Indian headdress,” Brad muttered. ”And it explains why the villagers gave us such icy looks today! The Cubs are in Dutch everywhere.”
”It makes me sick,” Dan said in disgust. ”Come on, Brad.”
Sunk in gloom, the two boys left the residential property, and with no destination in mind, went on down the street. The gardener's words, together with Mr. Silverton's accusations, now made everything plain.
The entire Cub organization had been incriminated on the basis of two pieces of evidence-the finding of the Wolf Cub badge near the dead pheasants, and the thoughtless display of the Indian headdress by Chips and Red.
”I knew those feathers would get us into trouble,” Brad remarked glumly.
”And believe me, we're really in the soup!”
”Brad, you don't think-”
”That Chips or Red killed those birds for the feathers? No, I don't, Dan.
But Silverton's accusation is serious. We've got to see Mr. Hatfield about this right away!”
The two boys, anxious to unburden themselves, sought Mr. Hatfield at Scout Headquarters. He listened attentively to the entire report, and then surprised them by saying:
”To tell you the truth, I've been a little afraid something like this would develop.”
”Then you knew about the dead pheasants?” Brad asked in amazement.
”No, but I noticed a few things at the pheasant farm which bothered me.
By the way, you told Mr. Silverton about the log jam in the creek?”
Brad and Dan gazed at each other in disgust.