Dan Carter And The Haunted Castle Part 14

The Cubs of Den 2 emitted a loud moan. Ross smiled broadly. He was confident now of victory.

Outwardly unmoved, Dan again took aim, deliberately lowering his sight.

Again the arrow flew straight from his bow, landing in the gold.

"Nine points!" shouted Midge, tossing his cap into the air. "Keep 'er up."

Dan shot twice more in rapid succession. Both arrows landed in the yellow. The boy now had shot four times for a total of 27 points.

"Do it again, Dan!" yelled Red.

Dan, however, was less sure of himself on the next shot. The arrow dug into the target on the rim of the gold.

Lest there be any argument, Mr. Hatfield ruled that it had fallen within the next band of color. Dan was awarded 7 points.

"That ties the score!" whooped Midge. "You'll win easily now, Dan."

The words unnerved Dan. As he raised his bow to make the final shot, he could feel his arm tremble. When he finally released the arrow, it missed the target.

"Buck fever," Dan laughed, putting down his bow. "I guess I deserve to lose out to Ross."

"But you haven't," Mr. Hatfield informed him. "You're both tied with 34 points. Now you'll have to shoot again."

Ross had jumped up from the gra.s.s. "I don't want to do that," he protested. "My arm is sore. I hit the target every time while Dan missed twice. Doesn't that prove-"

"Not a thing," said Mr. Hatfield. "Well, Ross, if you're unwilling to shoot again, suppose we settle it by drawing lots?"

"Okay," the boy agreed after hesitating a moment. "I'm pretty lucky."

"How about you, Dan? Are you willing to settle it by drawing cuts?"

"That's fair enough," Dan agreed. "For that matter, I'm willing to give the part to Ross. Honestly, I feel he's the better shot."

"Ross will make an excellent Sheriff of Nottingham," returned Mr.

Hatfield, preparing several strips of paper for the "draw." "So we'll decide the matter by lot."

The Cub leader told the boys that the one who received the shorter stub of paper should be declared winner.

Ross took his turn first. After studying the slips which Mr. Hatfield held half-concealed in his hand, he finally drew one forth.

In length, it appeared fairly short.

Dan's turn came next. Thinking that Ross already had won, he selected a slip carelessly. To his astonishment, it was a stub end-at least two inches shorter than the paper the other boy had drawn.

"Dan wins!" cried Chips gleefully.

Ross was too crestfallen to speak. He started to say that the contest hadn't been fair, but choked off the words. After all, he had protested at shooting a second time, and had favored drawing lots.

"I'm sorry, Ross," Dan said, noticing the other's keen disappointment.

"If it means so much to you, keep the role."

Ross shook his head and tried to grin.

"No, you won the part and it's yours for good," he said.

"Well spoken, Ross," said Mr. Hatfield, clapping him on the back. "A Cub has to be a good sport about losing out. You'll be an a.s.set to the play as the Sheriff of Nottingham."

"Oh, sure," Ross murmured, smiling weakly.

The Cubs started toward the target, intending to retrieve their arrows.

Before they could cross the range, three arrows were shot in rapid succession over their heads. Each lodged in almost the center of the target.

Amazed, the boys whirled around. The archer who had sent the arrows winging had drawn his bow from a long distance away. But he was nowhere in sight.

"Who shot those arrows?" Mr. Hatfield demanded. "That was real shooting!"

"I think they came from that clump of bushes to the right!" Brad exclaimed. "It must be that mysterious fellow who's always taking shots over our heads. Let's nab him."

Thus urged, the Cubs made a dash for the clump of foliage.

CHAPTER 9 A Neglected Duty

Surrounding the area from which the arrows had been shot, the Cubs closed in.

But, after whipping through the bushes, they were unable to find the mysterious archer.

"The fellow knew we would be after him," Brad remarked, carefully looking about on the ground for telltale clues. "He must have run off the moment he shot the arrows."

"He's good too," spoke up Ross. "Better than our champion, Dan Carter."

From the Den 1 boy's tone, it was evident that he still smarted under loss of the star role in the play. Dan, however, refused to be annoyed.

"He's a lot better shot than I am," he agreed.

"We ought to find him and let him take the part," Ross went on, determined to make the Den 2 boy feel uncomfortable. "He'd show us some real shooting."

"I wish we could trail him," Dan replied. "He'd be an a.s.set to our play."

"He must be a youngster too," added Brad, pointing to several footprints he had found beside a bush. "See, his shoe is shorter than mine."

The cl.u.s.ter of footprints appeared in a tiny clearing which gave an un.o.bstructed view of the target.

"He must have stood here when he shot those three arrows," Brad said.

"The question is, which way did he go?"