“I know Bernard Bauer and Jake Freeze slightly,” Dobbs replied, considering his words carefully. “But believe me, Mr. Silverton, they’ve never come here. At least not to my knowledge.”
“I’ve suspected for a long while that someone was stealing some of my best pheasants, Dobbs. In fact, we discussed it several times. But it remained for the Cubs to bring the proof I needed!”
“Proof! What proof have they dug up? How do we know they didn’t make up the whole story about finding those cocks in the lean-to?”
“I’ll vouch for the honesty of Brad and Dan,” said Mr. Hatfield, who had listened silently to the discussion. “For that matter, their findings do not surprise me. I’ve suspected for some time that trespassers were using the old logging road.”
While the Cub leader spoke, Dan by the light of the lantern had been inspecting the pheasant crate. Now he was ready to spring his most important discovery.
“If you want proof that someone has been stealing pheasants, look at this!” he exclaimed.
Attached to the shipping crate with a bit of wire was the torn half of an old tag, showing that it had been expressed to Malborne.
In the wavering light of the lantern, Mr. Hatfield and the owner of the pheasant farm inspected the writing.
“We found the other half of this shipping tag on the old logging road several days ago,” Dan told Mr. Silverton. “Apparently, the crate has been used repeatedly.”
Mr. Hatfield, who had kept the missing half of the tag, removed it from his billfold and gave it to Mr. Silverton.