THE CUBS TO THE RESCUE
No Danny! There was consternation at the Hall. Where _could_ he be? The
Cubs were wild with grief. While all the grown-ups puzzled their heads
over the question, the Cubs went straight to the point and arrived
at the correct conclusion by a guess. “That old beast, Black Bill,
has stolen him,” they said. But the grown-ups said it was absurd, and
little boys should not talk nonsense. A careful inquiry began as to
where Danny had last been seen, and it was soon proved that he had gone
down to the circus for the 8 o’clock performance.
“There you are,” said the Cubs, “we told you so--Black Bill’s _stolen_
him.”
Mr. Beak, the bailiff, and the foreman from the farm were sent down
to the gipsy camp to make inquiries as to whether Danny had been seen
there the night before; but Black Bill said he had not noticed any
Scout at his circus, and it was impossible to gather any information.
The Cubs were in despair.
“Look here!” said David, “we must take the search into our own hands.
Let’s call a Council.” So they called a Council, and the whole Six
assembled in the old pigsty.
“Boys!” cried David, standing on an upturned trough, “Danny, our chief,
has been stolen by Black Bill. No one will believe it--no one will go
to his rescue. Who is ready to take up the quest? Who will promise to
die rather than give up the search?”
“_I!_” yelled everybody, jumping up.
David was very pale; this was no game, and the sorrow and anxiety of
the Cubs was very real. “Let us all swear, here, to each other, as
Cubs, that we will go out and face _any_ danger, and not rest till we
have found Danny.”
Solemnly they promised. Suddenly Nipper cried, “P’raps he’s _dead_!”
And buried his face in a truss of straw and made noises that sounded
suspiciously like sobs. The others turned away in disgust; it’s all
very well to _feel_ like crying--any chap may do that--but no Cub gives
in to himself and _does_ it, he sets to work and does something really
useful and helpful.
Bill cleared his throat and began to speak.
“I vote,” he said, “that we elect David boss of this show, and make
proper plans, and then start off at once.”
So a serious Council started. The boys were paired off in twos--David
and Hugh (the gamekeeper’s son), and Bill and Jack (the blacksmith’s
son), and, of course, Nipper and little Bobby Brown.
We cannot here recount all that the Council decided, but we will follow
each pair, and see what adventures befall them, as they set out, like
the knights of old, bent on rescuing their captured chief.
It had been decided that Bill and Jack should go to the camp and
reconnoitre. David and Hugh were bent on another quest--but more of
that later.
The gipsies were striking camp. Black Bill seemed in a great hurry to
get a move on, and was swearing at his men, right and left. Walking
along the side of the meadow, by the hedge, Bill and Jack kept their
eyes open for any clue that might present itself, and before long they
were rewarded.
“Look!” whispered Bill, suddenly gripping his companion’s arm, and
pointing. “_Danny’s hat!_”
Dropping into cover behind the hedge the two Cubs peered through at the
strange sight before them--a ragged gipsy boy, barefooted, and clad in
an old red shirt, wearing a P.L’s hat. The boy was busy clearing out
the straw from the lion’s cage. There was no one near.
“Let’s ask him where he got it,” said Jack. “We might get some clues
from him, and if we could get hold of the hat, it would be a proof that
Danny _was_ in the camp, and that something must have happened to him.”
So the two Cubs stood up, and looked over the hedge at the gipsy boy.
“Where did you get that hat?” asked Bill. He had no intention of
making an impertinent remark, but the boy seemed to see something very
offensive in the question.
“Nah, then, none o’ yer cheek!” he said, and flung a lump of mud
straight into Bill’s face. Bill was furious, and started forward, his
temper fairly up, when Jack called him back to his senses.
“Don’t give in to yourself, you ass,” he said. “Don’t you see it’ll
spoil the whole game?”
Bill checked himself; but it was a hard struggle.
“I say,” said Jack, over the hedge to the boy, “you might be a sport
and tell us where you found that hat, because it belongs to a friend of
ours, and if you don’t tell us where you found it we shall think you
stole it from him.”
The boy told them to shut up in such a rude way that Bill flushed up
again, but he held himself in.
“Look here,” said Jack, “if you will give us back our friend’s hat,
I’ll give you this.” He held out a fine, new Scout knife. The boy’s
only reply was to throw an armful of dirty straw over the hedge, and
all over the two Cubs.
“Then,” cried Jack, “we’ll jolly well take it from you!” And, with
these words, he leapt lightly over the hedge, followed by Bill, and
caught the big gipsy a neat left-hander under the chin. The boy, taken
unawares, was sent sprawling, and Bill lost no time in snatching the
hat off his head.
A group of gipsies working further on had seen, and now came towards
the group.
“Better clear out,” said Jack. “We’ve got our evidence.” Jumping over
the hedge they quickly made their way back to the Hall.
They found Mr. Ogden and Mr. Beak talking over the question of Danny’s
disappearance with a policeman. In a few words they told their story.
“H’m,” said Mr. Beak, “look’s rather strange. They’ll have to account,
somehow, for Danny’s hat being in the possession of one of their boys.”
So the policeman and the bailiff and the two Cubs went down to the
camp. Black Bill was interviewed once again. This time he sent for his
sons, and questioned them before the policeman.
“Oh, yes,” said one of them. “I know about that scout. It was like this
here. He got in with a queer lot o’ folk what come from the town, not
the kind o’ people as we likes to encourage in our circus. They was so
rowdy and disreputable we had to give ’em a warning, and threaten to
call in our friend the policeman here. That made ’em wild, and they
started smashing up our Hoop-la with the balls off the cocoanut shie.
Our lad, in charge of the Hoop-la, had a scuffle with the Scout, who
was the ringleader of all the mischief, and he must have got his hat
then. We threatened to report the Scout’s behaviour up at the Hall.
He took fright at that, and so did they all. They started off for the
town, and he begged them to take him too; he was afeared to go in so
late, and in the state he was in. So they all went off together.”
Mr. Beak and the policeman looked very serious.
“I heard about that lot,” said the policeman, “but I didn’t know as how
the Scout had got mixed up with them. Not the kind of companions as Mr.
Ogden would like for him.”
“Well,” said Mr. Beak, “we’d better go and report this information to
Mr. Ogden, and see what further steps can be taken.”
Then the Cubs stepped forward, with blazing eyes.
“But d’you mean you _believe_ these beastly lies about Danny?” cried
Bill.
Mr. Beak shrugged his shoulders. “Well,” he said, “what else can I do?
Of course it’s very sad, but then Danny should keep out of the way of
bad company.”
Mr. Beak was one of those weak-minded people who always believe
everything they are told, and accept the first solution to any problem
that comes along, because it is less trouble than finding out the true
one.
“But it’s all a lie, a _lie_, a LIE!” shouted Bill. Jack was at his
elbow. “Shut up, you bandarlog,” he whispered, “look at Black Bill.”
Bill glanced up and met the eyes of the circus manager fixed upon him
in an awful and piercing scowl. He nearly jumped out of his skin, and
for a moment stood still like a rabbit mesmerized by a snake, beneath
the gaze of those terrible black eyes. In that moment he felt more sure
than ever that Black Bill knew where Danny was.
To the Cubs’ dismay Mr. Beak reported the story to Mr. Ogden, who
seemed inclined to believe it. But something even worse was to happen.
Black Bill himself walked down to the Hall that night with the
policeman, to make (so he said) a report of the matter himself to Mr.
Ogden.
He had a short interview alone with the Squire, and then went away with
a horrible grin on his face. Mr. Ogden came out as white as a sheet,
and in a towering rage. He ordered the search for Danny to be stopped,
and said he had disgraced himself, and could now shift for himself; he
washed his hands of such a young scamp.
The Cubs, in despair, set to work with redoubled energy, and that night
a strange adventure befell David and Hugh.