“That was swell, Billy!” Brad cried, grasping his hand. “Your shot couldn’t have been better!”
“Where that arrow fell we’ll place our target for the archery range,” Billy said dreamily. “I’ve got it all planned.”
Brad was too excited at the moment by the success of the play to wonder what the boy meant.
Parents poured around the Cubs, congratulating them upon their fine acting.
Though pleased that it was over, the Cubs were none too confident of victory. The judges, they noticed, had gone into a huddle. Apparently, they were in disagreement, for they seemed to be arguing rather heatedly.
“No soap,” Chips muttered hopelessly. “I stumbled over my lines in one place. I’m sure that prejudiced one judge. I saw him looking hard at me.”
Ten minutes elapsed. Then word came that the judges were ready to announce their decision. George Hutton, as spokesman for the group, stepped out in front of the expectant audience.
“The task of choosing the best play from among ten entries has been most difficult,” he began. “All have had exceeding merit. In the unanimous opinion of the judges, however, one presentation has been outstanding in every respect.”
“Which one?” whispered Midge impatiently. “Can’t he ever get to the point?”
“First prize is awarded to the Cub Scouts for their play ‘Robin Hood,’” Mr. Hutton announced. “From start to finish, the presentation was a finished production.”