“I was asking an old timer about that only yesterday.”
“And what did he tell you?” Dan demanded, eager for additional details.
“This old salt claimed that heavy wind storms blocked off the beach entrance to the tunnel.”
“Couldn’t it be relocated and dug out?”
“Probably, if anyone wanted to go to that much work. It would be a big job shifting so much sand even if the entranceway could be found. I don’t suppose Mr. Manheim ever was interested.”
“He owns the entire island, doesn’t he?” Brad asked thoughtfully. Picking up a piece of driftwood, he fed it to the dying embers of the fire.
“That’s right,” the Cub leader agreed. “The Scouts have been dickering with him for nearly six months to purchase a stretch of beach for their permanent camp. They’re also considering a site two miles farther down river.”
“Which will they take?” Chips asked. “I should think Skeleton Island would be better, because it’s closer to Webster City.”
“So far, Mr. Manheim has asked a fairly steep price and doesn’t seem inclined to come down,” the Cub leader replied. “The Scout director has made two inspection trips and is well satisfied. Now he wants me to make my recommendation.”
“You said the Cubs might go there on an over-night camping trip,” Red reminded him.