To be square, and to obey the law of the Pack.”
As the meeting broke up, Mr. Hatfield doused water on the live coals.
“What became of Red?” he asked. “He left camp twenty minutes ago for more wood. He must have gone to the house.”
“Probably to get a head start at the refreshments,” chimed in Chips. “That’s Red!”
“I’ll see if he’s there,” Dan offered quickly. “I saw him disappear into the trees, but he may have circled around.”
A light glowed from the kitchen windows of the Holloway house on the hill.
The dwelling stood at the extreme edge of the metropolitan park area in the section which included many acres of wild, almost virgin timber. On many occasions the Cubs had been allowed to use the Holloway cabin which fronted the river. Often too, they explored the marked trails, usually accompanied by either Mr. Holloway or the cubmaster.
Climbing the gravel path, Dan peered in at the open kitchen door. In the glare of the electric light he could see Mrs. Holloway setting a long table with paper plates and napkins. Fragrant chocolate simmered on the stove.
“Oh, hello, Dan,” Mrs. Holloway greeted him cordially. “You’re the first Cub to come looking for food.”
“Then Red hasn’t been here?”