“KNOW YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD”
As Dan read the note from Pat, the Cubs’ first reaction was one of
annoyance.
“Why, the nerve of him!” Fred Hatfield explained. “He sneaks up here,
listening to our sessions, and then leaves a cheap challenge!”
“Let’s write a hot note back, telling that Purple Five to go jump in an
ash can!” Red proposed.
Dan and Brad dashed down the corridor to see if they could intercept the
intruders. However, Pat and his followers had slipped out a side door and
were out of sight.
The two Cubs knew that it would be useless to search the church yard, so
rejoined the other boys in the meeting room. By this time, argument over
the note had attained a high pitch.
Red, Fred and Chips were in favor of rejecting the challenge in short
order. Chub held no opinion whatsoever. Midge was talking in favor of
giving the dare serious consideration.
“If we refuse to play, Pat will go all over town, saying we’re afraid to
do it because we’d be licked,” he argued.
“We might at that,” Brad interposed. “Our team isn’t the smoothest on
wheels.”
“We haven’t practiced much, that’s why,” Midge insisted. “Why, we could
beat Pat and his hoodlums with our hands tied behind our backs!”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of it myself,” Brad said with an easy smile.
“From what I hear, Pat is a first-rate athlete.”
“We saw a sample of his basket shooting the other day,” Dan reminded the
Cubs.
“You think that stupid Purple Five team could beat us?” Red demanded,
leaping to his feet. “Why, that’s downright disloyal.”
Dan hesitated to make his position clear. “I’m not saying any such thing,
and I’m not disloyal, Red. Maybe our Cub team, disorganized as it is,
could beat the Purple Five. Then again, maybe we couldn’t. It might be an
interesting match.”
“What if they should lick us?” Chips asked uneasily.
“That’s a risk we’d have to take,” Brad answered. “Naturally, if we
decide to play, we’ll have to get busy and practice.”
Mr. Hatfield had taken no part in the discussion, and Dan now asked him
what he thought of the challenge.
“First, let’s hear your opinion, and then I’ll speak my piece,” the Cub
leader replied.
“Well, I’m in favor of picking up the challenge,” Dan replied after a
moment of thought. “For two reasons. First, if we turn the game down, Pat
and his gang will go around saying we’re afraid of defeat. Then it hit me
that if we really want to learn more about those kids and their habits,
this would be a mighty good chance!”
“They’re a bunch of hoodlums!” Red said resentfully. “It’s probably their
fault that the Scout organization is mixed up in a threatened lawsuit.
They slap us on one cheek and we hold up another for a big whallop!”
“We only suspect that Pat’s outfit did the damage at Christian Church,”
Brad said, supporting Dan’s position. “If we schedule a game, we may
overhear talk that will give us a straight lead. What do you think, Mr.
Hatfield?”
“Cubs are supposed to give good will,” he replied gravely. “Pat and his
gang haven’t had many advantages. Contact with a church, a worthwhile Cub
organization and wholesome sportsmanship, might do the outfit a world of
good.”
“Sure, but what about us?” Red argued. “Won’t they make more and more
trouble?”
“That’s a possibility, Red. But I think the Cubs can look after
themselves.”
“So do I,” declared Dan. “Let’s arrange a game and then get busy and
practice.”
An animated discussion followed as the boys made their plans. Mr.
Hatfield suggested that a series of three games be scheduled in the
church gymnasium. He promised that they would be closely supervised and
rules strictly enforced.
“How about charging admission?” Brad suggested. “If the Cub organization
has to pay for the services of a lawyer, we should be getting some money
in our treasury.”
As a general rule, Mr. Hatfield did not favor selling tickets or charging
admission for Cub affairs. Nevertheless, he acknowledged that the Den’s
need for cash was urgent and that a few extra dollars might be of great
help.
“We might charge a small amount,” he agreed reluctantly. “Twenty-five
cents perhaps.”
Only the date for the first game remained to be settled. Mr. Hatfield
said he thought it should be set for at least ten days ahead to give the
Cubs time to practice and better organize their team.
“We can’t devote all our time to athletics,” he warned the boys.
“Remember, we have those ‘Know Your Neighborhood’ visits ahead, not to
mention the party for parents. Speaking of the party, I’m ashamed to say
I’ve been so busy with conferences, I’ve had no chance to try to look up
ice cream freezers.”
“No one can find any,” Midge reported gloomily. “That party will be one
big flop.”
“Not at all,” Mr. Hatfield cheered him. “I think that it might be well to
postpone the affair one week. Another seven days will give us time enough
to round up a freezer or two.”
The Cubs were relieved by the change in plan, especially as everyone was
in an uneasy mood regarding the outcome of the threatened lawsuit. After
electing Dan captain of the basketball team, they assigned him and Brad
to notify Pat Oswald that the challenge had been accepted.
“It’s too silly, leaving a note in a bottle in an alley,” Brad objected.
“Why don’t we just write an acceptance and mail it to his home.”
The latter course was decided upon, and later that night the two boys
composed the letter and sent it off. Two days later a message was
returned to the church clubroom, accepting the first basketball game date
and agreeing to the series of three contests.
“The deal is on, and now we’ve got to buckle down,” Dan warned his
teammates. “Gobs of practice!”
Determined not to be shown up by the Purple Five, the Cubs spent every
spare hour in the church gymnasium.
Gradually, under the coaching of Brad, the team began to shape up. Dan
and Midge, having the best eye for basket shooting, were assigned as
forwards. Red and Chips, both being sturdily built, were to guard. Brad
would play center, as he had a long reach, and was taller than any of the
younger boys.
Chub and Fred were assigned as substitutes. Neither was very adept at
handling a basketball. Both attended practice sessions faithfully, but
Fred in particular had no deep interest in the game, preferring to read.
Mr. Hatfield attended the work-outs whenever he could. He was very busy,
however, and frequently was summoned to special meetings with Scout
leaders, court officials and attorneys. That the Cubmaster was deeply
worried over the pending lawsuit was obvious from his preoccupied manner.
Though basketball had become an absorbing interest, Brad and Dan did not
neglect other Cub activities. They made plans for “Know Your
Neighborhood” visits, and launched the building of a cardboard fort in
the clubroom. Fred enthusiastically took charge of the work, gathering
materials and supervising the construction.
“We’re pretty well set for our Mom’s and Dad’s party, if only we had an
ice cream freezer,” Dan remarked one afternoon. “Mr. Hatfield intended to
find one, but he’s been too busy to give it any thought.”
“Let’s try to rustle it ourselves,” Brad proposed. “How about a house to
house canvas?”
“I’ve already tried almost every home in our block.”
“We could work a new neighborhood, Dan. How about the locality of Old
Christian Church?”
“Why there, Brad?”
“Thought we could do a little investigating at the same time. On the
pretext of asking for an ice cream freezer, we can question folks in the
neighborhood about whether or not there were any witnesses to the damage
that was done.”
“Not a bad idea,” Dan approved.
The boys hiked to within a block of the old church and then began ringing
doorbells. At each house they voiced a double inquiry. First they asked
if an old fashioned ice cream freezer could be borrowed, and then they
inquired for information regarding the recent trouble at the deserted
building.
After nearly twenty unfruitful calls, Dan and Brad began to grow
discouraged. No one it seemed had an ice cream freezer, and the only
comment they obtained relative to the church damage was that “a group of
Boy Scouts did it.”
“No witnesses apparently,” Brad said, losing heart. “It begins to look
mighty bad for Den 2, Dan.”
“Let’s try one more house,” Dan suggested.
The one he indicated stood directly across from the abandoned church.
Purposely, the boys had left it to the last, so that their tour would end
near a bus stop.
Going up the winding walk, Dan and Brad rapped on the door. A man in
shirt-sleeves, a newspaper in his hand, came to the door. The two boys
repeated their inquiries which by now had become a routine speech.
“I don’t know where you can find an ice cream freezer,” the man turned
them down. He stared at the blue uniforms which the boys wore. “Say, you
boys are Cub Scouts, aren’t you?”
“Yes, we are,” Dan replied proudly.
“Were you in the gang that was supposed to have ripped the church
building apart?”
“We were not,” Dan returned. “Our organization has been falsely accused.
We’re trying to prove we had nothing to do with it.”
“Can’t you?”
“It’s not so easy. You see, a few of us visited the grounds before the
real damage was done. We accidentally smashed a window. After we left,
the place was wrecked, and we were accused.”
“It happened just after dark,” the home owner said. “I know because I
heard windows being smashed. A half dozen kids, more or less, were in the
gang, running wild over the place. I called police, but they got away
before the wagon arrived.”
“Did you see any of the boys?” Brad asked eagerly.
“Only at a distance.”
“You didn’t see anyone in Cub uniforms?”
“I was too far away to tell. The boys mostly were large fellows. Too old
to be Cubs, I’d judge.”
Brad and Dan asked the man for his name and address, intending to give it
to Mr. Hatfield. If their case actually came to trial it might be that he
could be called to testify in behalf of the Cubs. His information,
though, was meager.
After leaving the house, the two boys went across the street to peer at
the church building again. Since their last visit, all the windows had
been repaired.
“Not too much damage has been done.” Brad said, gazing about. “Those
trustees are just trying to build up a big case without much to go on.”
Dan pressed his face against a basement window, peering down into the
storage room.
“Those freezers are still there,” he announced. “I sure wish we could
borrow ’em for the party.”
“Well, we can’t,” Brad returned. “I wouldn’t ask those trustees for a
favor, even if we never find a freezer.”
“Here either,” Dan agreed. “Say, I see our bus coming. Let’s grab it.”
During the next two days, the Cubs were kept very busy at school. Each
afternoon was spent in the gymnasium. On several occasions, they saw
members of Pat’s crowd watching from the windows. The boys never would
come inside, but plainly were studying the game and tactics of the Cubs.
“They’re trying to study out our plays,” Dan reported to his teammates.
“Well, let ’em. We’ll beat them fair and square.”
On Saturday morning, Mr. Hatfield took all Den members to Juvenile Court
on the first visit scheduled in the “Know Your Neighborhood” series of
excursions.
The boys watched a hearing in progress, listened to a little talk on
traffic safety, and then met a judge.
Later, they crossed a corridor to another cluster of offices. Mr.
Hatfield explained that private hearings were conducted for boys and
girls who had committed misdemeanors. He led the Cubs into the office of
Harold Greene, court director.
“Boys, I want you to meet an old friend of mine,” he introduced them.
The Cubs were grateful that the Juvenile Court official made no reference
whatsoever to the incident involving the old Christian Church. He knew
about it, they were certain, but purposely was being tactful.
Mr. Greene shook hands which each Cub in turn. When he came to Chub, he
nodded and smiled and said:
“Why, Chub, I’m glad to see you again. Getting along fine, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” Chub mumbled nervously.
“You like the place where you are living now?”
“Y-yes, sir,” Chub muttered again. He seemed very ill at ease and acted
relieved when Mr. Hatfield steered the boys on to another office.
The Cubs could not fail to note that Chub was well known to the Court
director. Was it possible, they speculated, that at some time he had been
before the court? Could that explain why Mr. Hatfield had warned them not
to inquire into the boy’s past?
The Cubs moved on to a public reception room where juveniles sat while
awaiting calls to the conference chambers. Glancing carelessly over the
group of downcast boys slouched in the chairs, Dan received another
shock.
There in one of the chairs by the door, sat Pat Oswald! Seeing the Cubs,
he quickly lowered his head into a magazine and pretended to read.