“Chub never will make a good player that’s for sure,” Dan sighed. “I can’t figure out that kid, Brad. He likes being a Cub, but somehow he doesn’t catch on.”
“Not at basketball,” Brad admitted. “Something’s bothering him. Say, come to think of it, he hasn’t been at practice the last two nights.”
“Maybe he’s down with measles!”
“Never thought of that,” Brad admitted. “We ought to find out.”
The boys returned several books to the library and then decided to hike out to Chub’s place to inquire.
In response to their rap on the door the Widow Lornsdale came to admit them. She assured them that Chub was quite well, though not at home just then.
“He may be off somewhere wandering in the woods,” she added. “Poor lad! He seems so lonesome and unhappy.”
“Doesn’t he like being a Cub?” Dan inquired.
“Oh, indeed, he enjoys the organization very much. You know, though, that Chub’s lot hasn’t been an easy one.”
Brad and Dan had no knowledge whatsoever of the boy’s past. Remembering Mr. Hatfield’s admonition not to ask questions, they never had tried to pry into his background.