CHAPTER 9
A LOST PADDLE
A half-sob escaped Dan as he beheld the ruin of the beautiful sand painting. The work of hours—completely destroyed! It was almost too much to bear.
As he stood staring at the meaningless mess of mixed color, the boy heard footsteps behind him. He turned quickly to see that it was Mr. Hatfield and the Cubs returning from their hike to the ravine.
“Hi, Dan!” the Cub leader greeted him cheerily. “Picture all finished?”
“It’s finished all right.”
Dan pointed miserably to the mass of strewn sand.
“Someone wrecked it while I was down at the river washing my hands. It makes me sick. All that work—gone.”
“Ross Langdon must have been here!” Chips cried furiously.
“Not while I was around,” Dan returned. “Fact is, I didn’t see a soul.”
“It’s unfair to blame Ross,” said Mr. Hatfield quietly. He had been looking about the camp, making a few observations. “Don’t you realize what happened to your sand picture?”