“I’ve done what I could for Chub,” the widow resumed. “He’s a very good boy and deserves parents. Since Juvenile Court authorities placed him with me, I’ve had no trouble with him whatsoever.”
Dan and Brad were startled by the reference to Juvenile Court. Was it possible, they wondered, that Chub had at some time been a delinquent? It hardly seemed possible that anyone so shy and reserved could have given the authorities difficulty.
Thinking back, Dan recalled that the Juvenile Court director had spoken to Chub when the Cubs were touring the courthouse. Other referees there had seemed to know him too. Yet Chub never once had mentioned knowing any of the officials.
“Won’t you boys come inside and wait?” the widow politely invited them. “I can’t tell you when Chub will return though.”
“Just tell him we were here,” Brad directed. “We wanted to be sure he wasn’t down with measles. Tell him we’ll be counting on him for the game Friday night.”
“I’ll give him your message,” the widow promised.
Dusk was coming on as Brad and Dan turned homeward. The old Christian Church, as usual, drew them like a magnet. Though they might have chosen a shorter route, deliberately they selected the road which ran past the deserted building.
“We never did learn what scared Pat and his bunch Halloween night,” Brad remarked, staring at the dark, unwinking windows.
“I tried to talk to him about it,” Dan admitted. “He closed up like a clam.”
Since that night when the two nearly had caught the Bay Shore boys in the building, Brad had discussed the matter only once with Mr. Hatfield. He never had given the Cub leader full information, for their conversation had been interrupted by the arrival of a third party.