“Oh, you make me tired!” Brad snapped in disgust. “Stay here and watch. Come on, Dan.”
The two darted across the clearing and opened the door of the shack.
A few garments hung from pegs on the wall. An orange crate had been fashioned into a table. Otherwise, except for the balsam bed on the floor, the room was bare.
Losing no time, Dan and Brad began to tear the bed apart.
“It’s not here,” Dan said in disappointment. “Wait”—his hand struck a metal object buried deep amid the carefully laid brush.
Triumphantly, he brought out the tin box.
“Good work, Dan!” Brad praised. “Is the money still there?”
Dan raised the lid. The box appeared filled with bills and coins.
“Not much can be missing at any rate,” he said in satisfaction. “Finding this box will clear Mr. Hatfield and the Cubs!”
“Now our only problem will be finding out who’s entitled to the money—”