A New Cub
The point-blank question did not disconcert Billy Brekenridge.
“Why, no, Grandfather,” he replied soberly. “I didn’t start the fire.
That is, I don’t think so.”
“You don’t seem to be very certain, Billy.”
“Did you roast weiners that morning?” interposed Dan.
“No-o,” the boy replied, thinking hard. “Oh, yes, I did, too. It was only
a little fire though.”
“Little fires have a way of spreading into large ones if they are
carelessly tended,” remarked Mr. Hatfield. “On that particular day a
strong wind was blowing in the direction of the Castle.”
“Then you think I started that big fire?” Billy asked, his eyes wide and
very blue.
“We’re afraid you may have done it unintentionally,” his grandfather
replied. “Billy, I fear I have neglected you of late, not paying as much
attention to your comings and goings as I should have done.”
Billy said nothing, but stirred uncomfortably. He took it for granted he
was to be severely punished for having caused the fire.
“Now there are other questions to be asked,” his grandfather resumed.
“You’re quite handy with a bow and arrow, I believe.”
“I should be,” the boy answered. “I learned in England. My father taught
me.”
Ross Langdon produced the bow which had been picked up by the Castle.
Before he could offer it to Billy, the boy claimed the property.
“That’s mine,” he said. “I dropped it when I ran.”
“Then you’re the ghost of the Castle?” Dan asked him.
“I’m no ghost.”
“That’s only the name we gave you. But you’re the one who shot arrows
into our target during the tournament?”
“And the one who kept peeking at us as we acted out our movie scenes?”
Brad questioned.
“Sure,” Billy admitted with a grin.
“Then it follows that you’re the mysterious archer who shot that arrow
near Mr. Kain’s automobile,” Dan resumed. “You told us to search in Robin
Hood’s Strong Box.”
“Did you find the treasure?” Billy demanded. “I know you did, because I
see Grandfather has the bag of coins.”
Colonel Brekenridge directed a stern gaze upon his grandson.
“Why did you hide the coins in the Castle chimney niche, Billy?”
“Because I wanted the Cubs to have ’em,” the boy answered promptly. “They
need money to buy costumes for their play. This was all I had.”
If the Cubs had felt any resentment toward Billy, it melted upon the
moment.
“I’m certain you meant to be generous, Billy,” his grandfather said
kindly. “You realize though that those coins are very rare and valuable.
Your father gave them to you to keep.”
“I’m sorry, Grandfather. I didn’t stop to think. I only wanted to help.
The Cubs had to pay for all the damage done by the fire. I know ’cause I
overheard ’em talking about it.”
Mr. Kain squirmed uncomfortably. Now that it definitely was established
the Cubs had been blameless in the fire, he was ashamed to have taken
their money.
“A little mistake was made,” he said gruffly.
Colonel Brekenridge asked how much the Cubs had been required to pay.
Learning that the amount was twenty dollars, he bade his nurse bring pen,
ink and a check book.
“Billy was entirely at fault,” he told Mr. Kain. “It would be most unfair
to hold the Cubs responsible for damage. I’ll gladly repay the amount.”
Colonel Brekenridge made out a check to Sam Hatfield, instructing that
each boy be repaid the amount he had contributed.
“Say, we’ll get our costumes for the play after all!” Dan said
jubilantly. “We can buy a lot of special trappings!”
“Whoop-ee!” chortled Midge, tossing his cap into the air. “Maybe we’ll
win that contest yet!”
“I’d like to make a little contribution to help along the cause,” said
Mr. Kain unexpectedly.
From his billfold, he extracted two new ten dollar bills.
“Oh, it isn’t necessary to repay us,” Dan protested quickly. “Colonel
Brekenridge already has done that.”
“This is merely a little personal offering,” the bank employee said,
thrusting the money into the boy’s hand. “I’ve learned a lesson in
dealing with the Cubs. Use this to buy whatever you need for your play.”
“Thanks, Mr. Kain! And may we keep on using the Castle grounds?”
“As long as you like, or at least until the place is sold.”
“The Castle property is for sale?” Colonel Brekenridge inquired in
surprise.
“Yes, the bank has decided to get rid of it. The property is a white
elephant, eating up an enormous amount in taxes and maintenance. It will
be a bargain though for anyone who can afford such a mansion.”
Now that everything had been arranged to the satisfaction of the Cubs,
they had no further excuse for remaining.
Brad arose from the steps and the other Cubs followed his example.
“Oh, do you have to go so soon?” asked Billy, his face becoming downcast.
“Can’t you stay and play with me just a little while? I’ll let you use my
bow and arrow and my Ping-pong table.”
His words and manner made it instantly clear to the Cubs that the boy
suffered from loneliness.
This fact also became evident to Colonel Breckenridge.
“Billy,” he said, “as I said before, I’m afraid I’ve neglected you in
recent months. Tell me, how do you spend your time?”
“I don’t know,” the boy replied vaguely. “There’s nothing to do here. No
one to play with ever.”
“So that is why you’ve roamed the woods and found mischief for yourself?”
“I had to do something, didn’t I?” Billy asked.
“You could have had friends here.”
Billy gazed at the gardener and gave a snort. “Pete wouldn’t let me! If I
even let out a yip, he would tell me to be quiet—that I was making you
worse.”
“I see,” said Colonel Brekenridge quietly.
“Whatever I did, the servants would tell me not to make so much noise,”
Billy went on. “The only fun I had was watching the Cubs. I wish I could
be one.”
“And why not?” interposed Mr. Holloway heartily. “You’re the right age,
Billy.”
“Also, you’re mighty handy with a bow and arrow!” added Dan. “You could
teach us quite a few tricks.”
“Billy would be a real asset in our play,” added Brad. “If we’re to win
the prize, we need a few fancy marksmen.”
Billy’s face had become highly animated. Springing up from the steps, he
gazed anxiously at his grandfather.
“Oh, may I join?” he pleaded. “May I, Grandfather? I promise I’ll be as
quiet as a mouse around here and never make you nervous.”
The colonel laughed. “Billy, you’re the same as a Cub Scout right now, if
the organization will take a rascal like you! Furthermore, your days of
tiptoeing around lest you disturb me are at an end. I’m well on the road
to recovery. A little healthy boy-noise will do me good for a change!”
Billy now turned to Mr. Hatfield, eagerly demanding to know if he might
be taken into the organization.
“Of course we want you,” the Cub leader assured him. “We’ll have the
initiation as soon as possible. Meanwhile, you may take part in all our
activities.”
“The Robin Hood play?”
“Certainly.”
Dan now spoke up. “I think Billy should be Robin Hood,” he said
generously. “We all know he’s a better shot than anyone in the Pack.”
“I’d like to be in the play, but I don’t want the lead part,” Billy
replied.
Mr. Holloway pointed out that many of the scenes had been filmed. To
place Billy in the leading role at such a late date would mean retaking a
great deal of film.
“We’ll find a role for him,” he promised. “Give me time to think of
something.”
The boys told Billy a little about the Cub organization and particularly
of their plans for the play.
They were amazed to learn that the boy not only was thoroughly familiar
with the Robin Hood story, but had visited the real Nottingham Castle in
England.
“You’re going to be a big help to us in supplying authentic detail for
the play,” Mr. Holloway assured him.
Colonel Brekenridge remarked that it was approaching the luncheon hour.
He would not hear of the Cubs leaving.
Instead, he invited them all to remain for a picnic lunch.
“Pete will look after everything,” he said, chuckling at his own joke.
“He likes visitors, you know.”
Billy was thrilled to think that the Cubs would remain. He flew about,
issuing orders to the servants and telling them exactly what he wanted
for lunch. Double tables were set up under the trees and a cloth was
spread.
Although unable to join the group, Colonel Brekenridge watched from his
wheel chair on the veranda.
“How does the story of Robin Hood end?” Midge asked, as the boys sat
eating hamburger sandwiches. “You’ve never told us, Mr. Holloway.”
“Robin Hood had a long and merry life in Sherwood Forest,” the Den Dad
responded. “If we like, we may end our story on that note. I was thinking
though, that an epilogue might be added. In this, Billy could play the
part of Robin Hood in his old age, and shoot the last arrow.”
“How does the epilogue go?” asked Brad.
“The story is this,” Mr. Holloway explained. “Robin Hood had left
England, but as springtime returns, he craves again to roam the woodlands
of his beloved Sherwood Forest.
“He renews acquaintance with his old friends, Little John, Will Stutely,
Allan-a-Dale and Midge, the Miller.
“Finally he falls ill of a fever, and seeks the aid of his cousin, the
Prioress of Kirklees. The woman always has disliked Robin Hood and plots
to bring his downfall.”
“She locks him in a room of the tower and allows him to weaken!” declared
Dan, who recalled the story. “A long while elapses before Little John
hears his faint cries for help. By the time he traces the call and breaks
down the oaken door, Robin Hood is on the verge of death.”
“Yes,” Mr. Holloway nodded, “and when Robin Hood realized that his hour
had come, he bade Little John string his stout bow for him and choose a
smooth arrow from his quiver.
“Then from his bed, Robin Hood prepared to shoot through the open window.
He directed Little John to dig his grave where the arrow came to rest.”
“I don’t like a sad ending to a story,” Midge protested.
The other Cubs, however, favored adding the epilogue. They thought it not
only would round up the story with a most effective scene, but would give
Billy Brekenridge a chance to play a star part.
“I’ll fix myself up to look like an old man!” the boy declared happily.
“I can shoot that arrow from a lying down position easy as anything.”
Throughout the morning, Mr. Kain had been increasingly impressed not only
by the Cubs but by their plans for the Robin Hood play.
“When will it be given?” he asked Mr. Hatfield.
The Cub leader told him that plans had been made to present the play
before three judges the following Saturday. An invitation also would be
extended to parents to witness the show.
“This play deserves a larger audience,” Mr. Kain declared
enthusiastically. “Why not put out posters and invite the town?”
“We’d like to do that, Mr. Kain. The boys have worked hard. We were
afraid though, that the bank might not want so many people tramping over
the grounds.”
“Let me take care of that,” replied the bank employee. “After the way the
Cubs saved the property for us, I’m sure we owe them a little something.”
The Cubs were delighted by Mr. Kain’s change of attitude.
They were even more pleased when he went on, saying: “From watching
rehearsals and listening to an outline of the epilogue, I plainly see
you’re handicapped by having to do all your scenes outdoors.”
“Yes, we are, but that can’t be helped,” Mr. Hatfield agreed.
“Why not do the final scene inside the Castle at the window?”
“Could it be arranged?”
“I’m sure of it. I’ll see the bank president this very afternoon and let
you know.” Mr. Kain arose and picked up his hat. “Well, good-bye boys,
and good luck in winning the contest,” he said. “It’s been most
educational knowing you.”
After Mr. Kain had gone, the Cubs remained for another two hours at the
Brekenridge estate. Billy seemed pathetically eager for companionship.
He showed them about the grounds and displayed his archery equipment. Not
in the least boastful, the boy, at request of the Cubs, demonstrated his
ability with bow and arrow.
“I’ve practiced for years,” he said. “My father taught me in England.
You’ll all be as good or better than I am, after you’ve practiced
awhile.”
“We doubt that,” laughed Dan. “All the same, it will come in handy having
you to do a little behind-the-scenes shooting.”
“I’ll be your double,” Billy volunteered. “Whenever a scene requires very
accurate shooting, I can substitute for you, but my face won’t show.”
Details of the various scenes in which both boys would take part were
worked out. Then it was time for the Cubs to leave.
“You’ll come again—soon?” Billy asked wistfully, escorting the group to
the estate entrance.
“Sure,” Dan told him. “As often as we’re invited.”
“That will be every single day!” Billy laughed. “You won’t forget your
other promise—to make me a Cub?”
“No one can make you a Cub,” Dan replied. “That’s up to you. You may be
sure, though, we’ll take you into the organization.”
“The initiation will be soon,” Mr. Hatfield promised. “Meanwhile, boys,
let’s all remember the Cub motto—‘Do Your Best.’ If we’re to win first in
the play contest, we all must put forth top effort.”