“Then someone must have babbled!” Chips exclaimed. “It sure wasn’t me!”
“Or me,” echoed Red.
“I can’t understand how anyone would blab the secret,” said Brad slowly. “Every Cub has real ideals or he wouldn’t be in the organization. Cubs are Square—they keep their promises. And we all promised not to mention the box until after you had time to talk to the police about it.”
“That’s right,” Mr. Hatfield agreed. “You put it well, Brad. I can’t believe, either, that anyone would tell—at least not intentionally.”
“How do you know the information got out?” Dan asked thoughtfully.
“Through a visitor. I was eating breakfast this morning when Everett Wilson, owner of the Elite Dry Cleaning Co., came to the door. He’s not a member of the church, but does attend irregularly. Any of you fellows know him?”
All of the Cubs except Babe shook their heads.
“I know him when I see him,” Babe said. “We take our dry cleaning to his place. We’re quitting though. Last time my Dad left a pair of trousers there, he shrunk ’em an inch and wouldn’t make good.”
“You say Mr. Wilson heard about us finding the money box?” Dan asked the Cub leader.
“It’s worse than that. He not only heard about it, but he’s put in a claim for the money.”