The Metal Box
Stooping low, Dan lifted the metal box from the shovel. It was
surprisingly heavy.
The boy tugged at the lid, but it stubbornly resisted his efforts.
From the furnace room, the waiting Brad now called impatiently:
“Hey, slow poke! Hurry up with that coal, will you? You’ve been in that
bin a couple of hours!”
Dan emerged into the light. His hands were smeared with coal dust. So was
his blue Cub Scout uniform. A long black smudge lay across his cheek.
“Say, what you been doing in there?” Brad demanded, staring at him. “If
you aren’t a sight!”
Dan ignored the gibe. Grinning triumphantly, he thrust the metal box into
the astonished Brad’s hand.
“Look at this,” he directed. “What d’you say? Did I waste my time in that
coal bin?”
Brad stared at the box and then shook it hard.
“You found this under the coal?” he demanded almost in disbelief.
“You catch on fast,” Dan grinned. “I found it under the coal.”
“Well, what are we waiting for? Why don’t we open it?”
“Go ahead,” Dan encouraged.
Brad pried at the lid but could not raise it.
“Stuck,” he observed. “At least the box doesn’t seem to be locked.”
Determined to open it, Brad rapped one corner of the lid against the hard
cement floor.
The cover flew back so suddenly that an object tumbled out.
Brad and Dan stared. At their feet lay a package of bank notes, neatly
held together with a rubber band.
“Money!” Dan exclaimed. “Twenty dollar notes! Must be counterfeit.”
“Gosh, it looks genuine enough,” Brad muttered, equally dumbfounded. “And
look at the rest of ’em here in the box!”
The boys counted ten stacks of paper money. Some were in fives and tens,
but a larger portion was in twenty dollar bills with at least a few
fifties.
“Say, there must be a couple thousand here,” Brad said, making a rough
estimate. “Maybe more. Where’d you say you found it?”
Dan showed him the place in the coal bin. “How d’you suppose it got
here?” he demanded.
“That’s what I’d like to know. Someone must have hidden it here.”
“Sure, but who would leave a pile of money kicking around loose? Anyone
who would risk it must be crazy.”
“I’ll bet a cookie someone hid it here in the empty bin—”
“The bin isn’t empty.”
“Of course it isn’t now,” Brad said impatiently. “But you remember the
church has been closed. Coal probably was loaded in here only a day or so
ago. It was heaved in through the chute and no one saw the box.”
“Your theory is as good as any,” Dan admitted. “Anyway, we’re rich.”
Brad gave a snort of disgust. “Rich, my eye! You’re not such a dum bunny
as to think we can keep this money?”
“But if no one should claim it—”
“It will be claimed fast enough. In any case, we’re not getting ourselves
mixed up in anything. We turn this box over to Mr. Hatfield—right now.”
“Sure, I guess you’re right,” Dan admitted. “I intended to show it to
him. Only I thought if no one claimed the box, the money might go into
the Cub’s treasury or maybe the church building fund.”
“That’s an idea,” nodded Brad. “But let’s not count any chickens—or
rather, cash! I have a hunch whoever planted this money here won’t forget
about it!”
Excited over their discovery, the two boys hastily tossed another
shovelful of coal on the fire.
Then, carrying the precious metal box, they took the stairway two steps
at a time.
As they burst into the Cub meeting, Mr. Hatfield was explaining the
different types of armor used by knights in early days.
“One type was made of steel mesh”—the Cub leader said, and his voice
trailed off.
“Excuse us, sir,” Brad apologized. “Dan found this box in the basement.
It’s full of money!”
The Cubs would have suspected the two boys of playing a practical joke.
However, Brad floored them by plumping the box itself on the table.
He jerked back the lid, revealing the packages of money.
“Ye gads!” shrieked Red. “Is it real?”
“Where’d you find it?” demanded Midge, fingering one of the fat packages.
“Inside the furnace?”
“Would that be likely with a fire going?” Brad demanded. “Dan dug it out
of the coal pile. Must be a couple thousand dollars here at least.”
“Let’s count it,” proposed Fred Hatfield.
Sam, who was Fred’s father, had not spoken. However, very soberly he had
been examining not only the metal box, but many of the packages of money.
“Do you think it’s genuine, sir?” Dan asked eagerly.
“I’m not an expert on money,” the Cub leader replied. “But this looks
like straight goods to me.”
“How do you suppose the box came to be here in the church?” Brad asked.
“I haven’t the slightest idea. It bothers me though. I must notify the
pastor and the church trustees at once. Also, the discovery should be
reported to the police.”
The Cubs wanted to see the exact spot where Dan had found the money box.
For that matter, so did Mr. Hatfield.
They all trooped down into the basement to re-examine the coal bin. The
Cub leader could find no clue as to the person who might have hidden the
box.
True, he pointed out several large-size shoeprints visible on the dusty
basement floor. But he agreed with Dan and Brad that they likely had been
made by workmen who had repaired the furnace.
“Say, maybe one of the workmen hid the box!” Red exclaimed.
Mr. Hatfield said he considered the possibility an unlikely one. However,
he would not venture even a guess as to who might have left the box in
the coal bin.
“For all we know, it might even be stolen money,” he commented.
Dan, who had stood near the foot of the basement stairs, had heard an
unusual sound overhead.
“Listen!” he commanded.
The Cubs became quiet. Distinctly, they could hear a rattling noise.
“Sounds like someone trying to raise a window,” Brad said. “That box of
money on the table—”
Mr. Hatfield started up the stairs, but without undue haste.
“Take it easy, boys,” he said. “It’s only the wind rattling a window. The
money’s safe enough.”
Despite reassurance, the Cubs were uneasy as they followed their leader
up the creaking stairs.
If the box were gone—
Mr. Hatfield opened the door of the study. Every eye focused upon the
table.
The box of money was exactly where it had been left.
“Well, that’s a relief,” Mr. Hatfield admitted, chuckling at his own
uneasiness. “I’ll acknowledge that hearing the window rattle gave me a
most uncomfortable feeling.”
“How much do you suppose is here?” Dan speculated, fingering one of the
packages. “Shall we count it?”
“Well—” the Cub leader hesitated. “I’m not too eager to stay here in an
empty church with so much money. But then, go ahead. The job shouldn’t
take long.”
The Cubs seated themselves at the table. Mr. Hatfield began to count,
while the Cubs checked his work.
Since the onset of colder weather, Den 2 had made use of the church as a
meeting place for both Den and Pack gatherings.
In warmer weather they usually assembled at The Cave, overlooking the
river. As its name implied, the chamber had been carved by water action,
and was reached by a flight of stairs built by the Cubs and their
fathers.
During the previous summer, the boys had enjoyed many an adventure along
the waterfront. The story of their difficulties with river pirates has
been told in the Cub book entitled: “Dan Carter and the River Camp.”
In the first Cub Scout book, “Dan Carter, Cub Scout,” the boys tried a
little back yard camping. Even so, they found themselves battling a flood
at a pheasant farm, and incidentally, meeting several unpleasant persons.
Now, as the Cubs watched Mr. Hatfield count the money found in the tin
box, they sensed that once again they were on the verge of adventure.
The Cub leader tallied eight hundred and forty dollars in twenty dollar
denominations. Brad carefully set this amount down.
Next the Cub leader started to count the ten dollar bills. He was well
into the third package, when Dan, a little weary of watching, raised his
eyes to the window.
What he saw nearly caused him to rise off his chair.
A face was pressed against the windowpane.
In the fleeting instant that he saw it, Dan gained only a vague
impression of a flattened nose and intent eyes.
Too startled to cry out, he kicked Brad’s foot under the table.
“Hey, cut it out!” the older boy exclaimed. “Be your age.”
“The window!” Dan muttered. “Look!”
Not only Brad, but Mr. Hatfield and all the Cubs turned to see what had
attracted Dan’s attention.
But the face had vanished.
“What’s eating you, Dan?” Brad demanded. “Now you’ve mixed up the count.
Has finding this money got you jittery?”
“It sure has,” Dan admitted. “But I know I didn’t dream up that face. I
saw it plain as day!”
“What face?” asked Mr. Hatfield.
“I saw it only a minute ago at the window. Someone was looking in
here—watching us count the money!”
“Dan has got a bad case of the jitters,” Midge chuckled.
“No, he hasn’t either!”
Dan’s unexpected defender was none other than Babe Bunning. The youngest
member of Den 2 made his announcement in a shrill voice which quavered
with excitement.
“I saw the f-face too,” he chattered. “Only I was so—so scared I couldn’t
say anything.”
“You saw it too!” Brad echoed. “Say, this may add up to something!”
Mr. Hatfield already had darted to the window.
The rain had nearly ceased. Gazing out into the drenched churchyard, he
could see no one.
“Turn off the light a minute,” he instructed.
Brad found the switch.
With the study dark, it was easier to distinguish objects in the church
yard. The Cubs clustered at Mr. Hatfield’s shoulder, tense and uneasy.
“I don’t see anyone—” Mr. Hatfield began.
He broke off and Dan finished the sentence. “Over there by the bushes, to
the right of the walk! See!”
“Someone sneaking off toward the street!” Brad added. “Let’s nab him!”
“The dirty old peeping Tom!” yelled Chips. “Come on! We’ll get him!”
“Wait, boys!” Mr. Hatfield advised. “We don’t know—”
Usually obedient, the Cubs now were too excited to listen.
Before Mr. Hatfield could stop them, they darted through the empty church
and out into the yard.
“Surround the bushes and close in,” Brad instructed.
The Cubs circled the area where they last had seen the mysterious
prowler. Soon it was apparent, however, that the man had eluded them.
He had slipped away in the brief time it had taken them to reach the
church yard. Although they looked up and down the street, the man was
nowhere to be seen.
“We’ve lost him!” Brad declared in deep disgust.
“Perhaps it’s just as well,” said Mr. Hatfield. The Cub leader, a little
short of breath, had followed the Cubs into the yard.
“Just as well?” Brad echoed. “I don’t get it.”
“It’s no crime to look into the window of a church, Brad. Didn’t you act
rather hastily?”
“I guess I did,” Brad admitted. “I was so anxious to catch that fellow I
didn’t stop to think what the outcome might be if we did nail him.”
“Dan, did you recognize the person?” the Cub leader asked him.
“No, Mr. Hatfield, I didn’t. All I saw was a face flattened against the
windowpane.”
“You think, though, that he was watching us count the money?”
“I’m sure of it.”
“It’s possible that the person—whoever he was—may have been the one who
hid the money in the basement,” Mr. Hatfield said, thinking aloud. “On
the other hand, it may have been a curious passerby attracted by our
light in the study.”
“In any case, we were seen counting the money,” Brad pointed out.
“And that’s not good,” Mr. Hatfield completed, his face troubled. “I’d
hate to have it noised around Webster City that we’ve found a box of
money. It might make trouble.”
“What do you think we should do?” Brad asked anxiously.
Mr. Hatfield already had made up his mind. He spoke decisively:
“The most important thing now is to get the money box to a safe place.
I’ll take it home for tonight.”
Well satisfied with the decision, the Cubs trooped back into the church
to gather together their belongings.
With the exception of Brad and Dan, the other Cubs lived close by. The
two boys were to ride with Mr. Hatfield and his son Fred.
“The storm has let up now, so I’ll trust the rest of you to shift for
yourselves,” the Cub leader said. “Go straight to your homes and don’t
stop along the way to pick any daisies. I’ll report to you in the morning
as to what will be done with the money box.”
“We’ll be okay,” Red said cheerfully.
“Sure,” agreed Midge. “It’s only a couple of steps. Just take good care
of that money box.”
“Dan, Brad and Fred will help me guard it,” Mr. Hatfield said. “I don’t
mind admitting I’ll be relieved to turn it over to someone else for safe
keeping.”
Before taking the box to his parked car, the Cub leader carefully wrapped
it in his coat. Everyone breathed a bit easier when they were out of the
church.
Mr. Hatfield locked the money box into the rear compartment of his car.
“Oh, by the way, boys, just a word of caution,” he said as he prepared to
drive away. “Until I’ve had a chance to report to the police, it’s just
as well that no one learns about the money. So I’m depending upon you to
keep our discovery a secret.”