“Twenty thousand dollars,” Chips muttered. “Why, that old wreck of a place isn’t worth half that amount!”
“I’m afraid it is, Chips. However, a damage claim of twenty thousand is ridiculous. Mr. Maxwell himself recognizes that, for he has offered to settle for ten thousand if the organization pays within ten days.”
“The old skinflint!” Red exclaimed.
“We’ve refused,” Mr. Hatfield went on. “The next move is up to the trustees. All we can do is wait.”
Now that the Cub leader’s report had been made, the boys were in no mood for a long meeting. Brad took up a few matters concerning the Friday party, including the necessity for finding at least one ice cream freezer.
“Tomorrow is our last chance,” he told the Cubs. “Everyone get busy. Ask friends and neighbors and let’s see if we can’t find one.”
As Brad ended his little pep talk, the boys were startled to hear a loud pounding on the closed clubroom door.
Chub and Dan both jumped up to see who had rapped.
Dan reached the door first. No one was there. He thought though, that he heard a muffled snicker, and certainly he detected the sound of retreating footsteps. As he listened a moment, he noticed a folded piece of paper lying on the cement floor almost at his feet.
“What’s that?” Chub cried, seeing the paper at the same instant.