“All my work—gone!” Fred said.
No one spoke for a moment. Everyone felt sick at heart. All the Cubs had been proud of the fort and knew that Fred had spent hours of time completing it.
“This was wrecked right after the game,” Fred said bitterly.
“How do you place the time?” Mr. Hatfield’s voice was quiet though troubled.
“I dropped in here for a minute between halves of the game. The fort was okay then. When I came upstairs just a bit ago, this was what I found!”
“Pat or some of his gang did it,” Chips announced with finality. “That’s all the thanks we get for giving ’em half the money.”
“I didn’t think they’d do a trick like this,” Mr. Hatfield said. “I’d hoped—well, I thought Pat had good stuff in him buried deep down in. Seems I was mistaken.”
“We ought to report this to the police,” Red said indignantly. “Want me to call ’em?”
“No, Red. This is hardly a case for the police.”
“How about those other two basketball games?” Midge asked. “Will we play them?”