Dan Carter and the Cub Honor Part 1

Dan Carter and the Cub Honor.

by Mildred A. Wirt.

CHAPTER 1

A NEW CUB

Skillfully, Dan Carter dribbled the basketball down the polished gymnasium floor. With an easy toss of his right hand, he looped it neatly through the basket.

"Nice going, Dan," approved Brad Wilber, the Den Chief, who directed the Cub Scout practice.

The five boys, all members of Den 2, were practicing in the bas.e.m.e.nt of First Methodist Church. Now after a brisk half-hour work-out, they were ready to adjourn to the upstairs clubroom for their weekly business session.

Dan tossed the ball to Midge Holloway, who pa.s.sed it to Red Suell. The latter shot a fast one to Chips Davis, who fumbled. He awkwardly recovered the ball, but in attempting a basket, missed it by several inches.

"b.u.t.ter fingers; b.u.t.ter fingers!" mocked a voice from the bas.e.m.e.nt window.

The Cubs had not realized that they were being watched. Turning quickly toward the wall behind them, they saw several boyish and jeering faces pressed against the rain-streaked panes.

"It's Pat Oswald and his gang," Brad instantly recognized them. "Don't pay any attention."

Acting on the Den Chief's suggestion, the Cubs tried to ignore the boys at the window. But it was quite impossible.

Nervous because he knew he was being watched, Dan tried a long shot from mid-floor, and missed the basket. Again Pat and his followers hooted.

"Look at 'im!" one of the tormentors yelled. "Why, even a girl could do better than that!"

Dan could not endure the taunt. He walked over to the window.

"Oh, yeah?" he demanded. "I suppose you're so good you never miss!"

"Dead-eye Pat, that's me name!" the older boy boasted. "Come on, guys, let's show 'em!"

Boldly, he pushed open the window which swung on hinges. Before the Cubs could stop him, Pat shoved his muscular torso through the opening, and leaped down onto the gymnasium floor. Behind him, like so many spry gra.s.shoppers, came three of his cronies. The boys ranged in age from 7 to 11 years, but all were gangling and over-sized.

"Hey, you!" Red Suell cried furiously. "Get out of here! You got no business coming in!"

"Yah, yah, yah!" mocked Pat. He gave Red a hard shove, deliberately tearing the basketball from his grasp.

"Come on, fellows!" he urged his gang. "Let's show these babies how to play ball!"

He dribbled in beneath the basket. Without appearing to take aim, he carelessly hooked the ball up toward the netting. Neatly, it swished through.

Despite their annoyance, the Cubs were impressed. Pat was plently good!

No argument about that. His flashy skill so amazed them that they did not try to recover the ball.

One of the invaders s.n.a.t.c.hed and pa.s.sed it back to Pat. From that moment, it became a teasing, tormenting game of "keep it away from the Cubs."

"You've no right to come in here and break up our practice." Chips Davis accused hotly. "Give me that ball!"

He rushed in to s.n.a.t.c.h it. Pat with jeering laughter, pa.s.sed it on to another boy in his group.

"Give us our ball!" Chips shouted again. "If you don't hand it over-"

"Yah, yah, yah," mocked Pat. "Here it is, baby!"

He heaved the ball with terrific force. It struck the surprised Chips in the pit of his stomach, doubling him over.

At this moment, Sam Hatfield, the Cubmaster, appeared in the gymnasium doorway. The athletic coach and leader in the citywide Pack had a knack of getting on well with all types of boys. Now, as if he had noted nothing amiss, he commented cheerfully:

"Well, well, I see we have some new recruits today."

"Recruits, nothing!" snorted Midge Holloway. "These hoodlums are trying to take over the gym-that's what!"

"Aw, we were only having a little fun," Pat growled. Already he was edging toward the door. "Come on, fellows. Let's scram!"

As quickly as they had come, the intruders were gone. Mr. Hatfield waited until the door had slammed behind them, and then asked Brad about the youngsters.

"That was Pat Oswald and his bunch from out Bay Sh.o.r.e Road way," the Den Chief replied. "They're always making trouble."

The Cubmaster offered no comment except to remind the Cubs that it was time for the meeting to start.

"Where's Fred?" Dan asked, noticing that Mr. Hatfield's son was not with him.

"He's waiting upstairs in the meeting room," Mr. Hatfield replied. "He's getting acquainted with our new Den member."

"New member?" Dan asked quickly. The other Cubs, hearing the remark, gathered about to ask questions. This was the first hint they'd had that a new boy had joined the group.

"Come along and meet him," Mr. Hatfield invited.

Chips, Red and Midge rushed on ahead up the stone stairway. Deliberately, the Cub leader lingered behind to speak privately to Brad and Dan.

"As a special favor to me, I wish you fellows would look after Chub," he said quietly. "Teach him the ropes."

"Chub?" Dan questioned. "The new Cub?"

"Yes, his name is Charles Weldon." Mr. Hatfield hesitated slightly before he spoke the boy's surname. Then he went on "He's a shy youngster, not very sure of himself yet. Don't tease him about his family background.

Don't ask questions, and don't let the others do it either."

Brad and Dan were astonished by the request for usually Mr. Hatfield held to the theory that every Cub should fend for himself. Who was Chub, they wondered? Why had he never attended their school?

"Chub is new in Webster City," Mr. Hatfield said, as if picking the question from their minds. "Not much is known about his parents. He lives with Mrs. Lornsdale at the west edge of town."

"Is he an orphan?" Dan inquired.

"Something like that," Mr. Hatfield purposely was vague as he locked the basketball into an equipment case. "Now I've told you all anyone needs to know about Chub. No more questions. Pa.s.s the word along that no one is to tease him."