“He will, I think. Dr. Evans says he’s not in bad shape and has a good, strong physique.”
“Yes, it’s practically certain he’s the artist,” Mr. Hatfield declared. “The drawings on the cave wall reveal his skill. Poor fellow! He seems to have no memory of what he did after he came to Webster City.”
“Wonder what became of White Nose and Eagle Feather?” Dan worried. “Someone ought to find them and tell them the truth about Miquel.”
“We’ll attempt to locate them,” Mr. Hatfield promised. “Just now, we have a pow-wow on our hands. The Cubs haven’t had anything to eat. Furthermore, there’s one more event on the program. Or shall we call it off?”
“No!” yelled all of the Den 2 Cubs. Chips added quickly: “Let’s have the race now, and then our lunch!”
Mr. Hatfield gazed thoughtfully at Dan and Brad. Both boys, he knew, were somewhat worn from their harrowing experiences of the morning.
“It might be better to wait a day or so—” he began.
“Not on my account, sir,” broke in Dan. “Midge can take my place, if you don’t think I should enter the race. I feel fine though! Rarin’ to go!”
“Same here,” grinned Brad. “We’re ready to test our skill against Ross and Donald any old time you say. The quicker the better.”
“And if you get beat—as you certainly will—you’ll say it was because you were tired,” Ross twitted.