Dan Carter and the Cub Honor Part 19

"I know how you feel, Dan," Brad answered soothingly. "Pat acts like a baby. He wants to get our goat."

"He's had mine for a long while."

"We can't very well call off the game," Brad said slowly. "Mr. Hatfield talked it over with me only yesterday. He's heartsick at the way Pat has been acting, but he thinks we should go ahead and set the Bay View boys an example."

"I'd rather punch 'em in the nose."

"Take it easy, Dan."

"Oh, I'll control myself," Dan grinned. "Anyway, I want to lick 'em in that Friday game."

"That may not be so easy."

As Brad spoke, his gaze suddenly came to focus upon knife scratchings on the board wall directly behind the other boy. Without saying more, he went over to inspect the deep cuts.

"Another insult to the Cubs, I suppose," Dan remarked.

Brad's broad shoulders blocked his view so that he could not see what it was that the Den Chief examined with such intent interest.

"This is something else, Dan," Brad said, finally moving aside.

On the wall, freshly cut with a sharp knife, were the carved initials: "P. O."

"Pat Oswald," Dan identified them. "Seems to me we've seen those same initials, before, Brad. I guess we know now, who wrecked the old church building!"

CHAPTER 11 THE LOCKED DOOR

Discovery of the carved initials on the alley wall convinced both Dan and Brad that the mutilation had been done by Pat Oswald.

The Bay Sh.o.r.e boy, they were sure, had a careless habit of using his jack-knife whenever he felt like it.

"These letters 'P. O' are made the same as the ones we saw in the old church," Brad declared, studying the knife cuts closely. "At least I think so. I wish we could compare them."

"Is this enough evidence to convict Pat?"

"I'm afraid not, Dan. In the first place, being convinced of a thing is a lot different than being able to prove it. We didn't see Pat carve these initials, nor those on the church pew."

Dan lost interest in the wall markings. "What's the use then?" he asked hopelessly. "We'll never be able to prove anything."

"Oh, I don't know. I have a hunch Pat will over-play his hand. He's so c.o.c.ky and sure of himself. Given time he may trip himself up."

"Maybe, but I doubt it. You know as well as I do, that he and his bunch swiped our ice cream, but will we ever be able to prove that either?"

"We may. It takes time, Dan. You're too impatient."

"I just hope things turn out the way you predict, Brad. Somehow I've got an uneasy feeling about that game Friday night. You sure we shouldn't cancel it?"

"With at least a hundred tickets sold?"

"I guess not," Dan admitted. He sighed and started with the wagon and the ice cream freezers on down the deserted alley.

The scheduled basketball game between the two teams had attracted an unusual amount of interest in Webster City. Not only had the parents and friends of the Cubs bought tickets at twenty-five cents each, but a surprising number had been sold to strangers and friends of Pat Oswald and his group.

Though the Cubs had not really expected that the ticket sale would bring in very much, they now realized that it would swell their treasury considerably. The money already was earmarked for the payment of attorney fees, if needed.

After a long, tiring haul, the two Cubs eventually arrived with the freezers at Terry Treuhaft's cottage. The yard was choked with unraked leaves and the garage doors were locked.

"No one at home," Dan observed. "Just our luck!"

After rapping several times without an answer, the boys debated what to do. Brad was opposed to hauling the freezers back to the clubroom.

"We could leave them here," he suggested.

"Wouldn't it be better to take them back to the church? That's where they belong."

"All right," Brad agreed. "After we get home, I'll telephone Terry or one of the trustees so they'll know we returned them."

The old Christian churchyard looked more forlorn than ever as the boys presently came up to it with their creaking wagon. The lawn was deep with crackling brown leaves which filled shoes with a fine dust.

"Say, we could build a dandy fort here," Dan remarked.

"And get run off the premises again! Nothing doing."

Dan grinned goodnaturedly, for the idea had not been a serious one. He was as eager as Brad to be rid of the ice cream freezers and be on his way home.

"Where'll we leave 'em?" he asked. "Not out front."

"No, they'll be safer around back."

The boys circled the church, finally halting by a rear door which led down into the bas.e.m.e.nt.

"Why, it's open!" Dan exclaimed.

Someone had left the door unlocked, for it stood an inch or two ajar.

"Maybe Terry is here, or one of the trustees, Dan!"

Cautiously, the Cubs opened the door wider. They could see no one in the dark hallway. Nor could they hear anyone moving about inside the old church.

"Anyone here?" Brad finally shouted.

His voice echoed faintly, but there was no other sound.

"Queer," the Den Chief muttered. "The church is empty. But this door shouldn't have been unlocked. No wonder so much damage was done here.

Terry isn't as careful about looking after the place as he'd have the trustees believe."