“I’m glad you brought up the matter of the money box, Chips,” he said quietly. “The police are not trying to blacken my name. Quite the contrary. Their job is to investigate. I have complete confidence that they can bring to light no information which will discredit either myself or any Cub Scout.”
Their meal finished, the boys now cleared away the litter. Brad and Mr. Hatfield not only stamped out the dying coals, but for safety covered them with loose dirt.
“Notice that old farmhouse,” Dan remarked, pointing to an unpainted, tumble-down dwelling visible some distance away. “Wonder if anyone lives there?”
“It looks deserted,” Brad agreed.
The house was a gloomy, two-story structure with sagging porches. Roof shingles curled and the brick foundation had partly given away.
“Maybe that place has a ghost!” Midge suggested with a laugh. “Let’s go over and find out!”
“I thought we came out here for roofing discs,” Brad reminded him. “If we start off on a wild goose chase—”
“A ghost chase,” Midge corrected. “Oh, the house can wait. But it does look interesting. After we get the discs, let’s find out if anyone lives there.”
“Fair enough,” Brad agreed. “If we don’t start moving, we won’t even get our discs for armor. It will be turning dark before long.”
Made aware that the sun fast was lowering, the Cubs walked briskly on to the cleared area where four new houses had been built. All were boarded up for their interiors had not been completed. None were occupied.