Dan Carter And The Money Box Part 1

Dan Carter and the Money Box.

by Mildred A. Wirt.

CHAPTER 1

The Stranger in the Storm

Burrowing deep into the hoods of their slickers, the two Cub Scouts hastened along the darkening street.

Stinging gusts of rain pelted their faces. The strong wind fairly bowled them off their feet.

"Say Brad, this is awful!"

"It's sure coming down-and how!" agreed the older boy.

Brad Wilber, dark-haired and serious, was a Boy Scout and a leader among the younger boys. An outstanding athlete and nearly ready for high school, he served as Den Chief of the Webster City Cubs.

His companion, the blue-eyed, sandy-haired Dan Carter, had just turned ten.

Firm of muscle and old for his years, the younger boy grew so fast it was hard to keep him in Cub uniforms.

He and Brad had been good friends ever since Sam Hatfield had organized Den 2. On this particular evening, they had been overtaken by the storm on their way to a Cub meeting at the church.

"Say, let's hold up a second!" Dan gasped as a heavy curtain of rain veiled the sidewalk ahead.

The pair halted a moment under a store awning, there to catch their breath.

"This may turn to ice or sleet before the night's over," Brad said anxiously. "Then watch the cars pile up!"

"It's almost cold enough for sleet," Dan agreed with a s.h.i.+ver. "The storm certainly rolled in fast. Maybe Sam Hatfield decided to call off the Cub meeting."

Brad moved back against the building wall to escape the awning drip. "Not Sam," he said cheerfully. "He knows the Cubs are tough. Anyway, we're a little late. The others are probably at the church now, waiting for us."

From their shelter the two boys could see the church building a half block ahead, on the opposite side of the street.

The windows on the lower floor shone dimly through the wall of rain.

"The place is lighted, so Sam must be there at least," Brad commented.

"Shall we go on now? We don't want to be late and hold up the meeting."

"Okay," Dan agreed, b.u.t.toning his slicker which had pulled apart.

Heads low, they bored directly into the wind. The rain scarcely had slackened. Droplets dashed into their eyes, completely blinding them.

The boys were nearly opposite the church when Brad, who was ahead, ran full tilt into a man huddling against a building wall.

"I'm sorry," the boy apologized. "I didn't see you standing there."

"Watch where you're going next time!" the other growled.

Because the man spoke in such a surly tone, Brad looked him over carefully.

The fellow was no one he ever had seen before. His face, beneath a snap-brim hat which dripped rain, appeared shadowy and unfriendly. He might have been thirty years of age, maybe older. A day-old beard made it difficult to judge.

"Sorry," Brad apologized again.

He and Dan started on, only to be stopped in their tracks by a question.

"Hey, kids," the stranger addressed them, "what's going on over there?"

"Over where?" demanded Dan.

"In that church. It's lighted up like a Christmas tree."

"Oh, just a Cub meeting," Dan explained briefly.

Again he and Brad tried to move away, but the stranger more or less blocked the street.

"A Cub meeting?" the man echoed. "What's that?"

Brad had a feeling that the stranger in asking such a stupid question was stalling for time. He seemed to be looking over the two boys, studying them.

"It's the younger boy program of the Boy Scouts of America," Brad explained briefly. "We have a whale of a lot of fun."

"But what's the church doing all lighted up?"

"Dan told you," Brad said patiently. "The Cubs are having their monthly meeting."

His answer still did not satisfy the stranger. "But the church has been closed, hasn't it?" he mumbled.

"That's right." Brad began to edge away for he resented the delay.

"The church was closed nearly a month while repairs were made on the heating system," Dan added. "Now the work is finished, so services will be held again."

Muttering something, the stranger turned and slouched off in the rain.

"Queer duck," Brad commented as he and Dan started to cross the flooded street. "What did he mumble?"

"I'm not sure I caught it right. I thought he said: 'A fine thing!'"

"Must be a screwball, Dan. Somehow I didn't like his appearance."

"Same here. His eyes were so intent they gave me the creeps. Wonder why he was interested in the church anyhow?"

"Oh, idle curiosity, I suppose. You didn't know him?"

"Never clapped eyes on him before," Dan replied, leaping over a river of gutter flow. "He must be new in Webster City."