“The joke doesn’t seem funny to me,” Brad replied severely. “It would have given us all a bad feeling to think anyone had died on the island. We want this camping trip to be a pleasant experience.”
“Guess I made a mistake,” Chips muttered, gathering up the skeleton. “It seemed like a good idea when I first thought of it.”
Disheartened by the failure of his joke, he carefully replaced the bones in a carrying box which he had hidden in the willows.
“Don’t take it so hard,” Brad said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I know you went to a lot of bother to pull off that joke.”
“The Cubs would have fallen for it too.”
“Sure, they would have, Chips. But it would have stirred them up. You know as well as I do that if things go wrong while we’re here, the Scouts may decide not to buy the island site for their camp.”
“You’re right, Brad,” Chips admitted. “I’m sorry. I won’t pull any more stunts while we’re here.”
Back in camp once more, several of the Cubs elected to try their luck fishing. Dan, Chips and Brad, who were to help Mr. Holloway with the cooking that night, remained behind to check over supplies.
“The boys may bring in a few fish,” the Den Dad remarked. “If so, we should have a good meal tonight. But just in case—we’ll be prepared to fall back on ham and eggs.”
Dan wandered off to gather wood for the fire. Upon his return with a large armful of dry pieces, he noticed that the water pail was empty again.