“Swell,” approved Midge, smacking his lips. “Chocolate with nuts in it!”
“The mothers have promised to furnish the cake,” Mr. Hatfield resumed. “Angel food, spice and chocolate. Making the ice cream will be our job. Know where we can get a couple of old-fashioned ice cream freezers?”
“My grandmother had one, but I think she gave it away,” Dan said doubtfully.
“Large freezers may not be easy to find. Well, see what you can do about it, boys, and report back.”
The afternoon meeting broke up quickly for the hour was late. As the Cubs poured out of the club-room, Dan brushed against Pat Oswald who had been standing close to the wall.
“Listening again!” he said scornfully. “If you want to learn about Cub Scouts, why don’t you come inside instead of sneaking around like a cat?”
“You’re calling me an alley cat?” Pat demanded. He doubled up his fists and glared at Dan. “Say, I ought to knock the stuffins out of you!”
“Want to try?”
“Cut it,” Brad advised quietly. “We’re not getting into a fight here in the churchyard. Or anywhere else for that matter.”
“Naw, the Cubs wouldn’t fight,” Pat jeered. “They’re yellow. Afraid of their sissy shadows.”