“Go to it,” Mr. Hatfield urged. “But don’t mutilate any of the trees.”
For the next hour, the Cubs wandered about, selecting choice pieces of hickory, white elm and other woods favored for staves. Midge’s father showed them how to dress the ends.
“Time we’re getting back,” he announced suddenly, picking up his knapsack. “Come on, gang.”
“Say, where is Chips?” Brad demanded, counting noses.
“And Red?” added Dan.
“They were here only a few minutes ago,” Fred recalled. “Come to think, I heard Chips say something about looking for a yew tree!”
“That dumb cluck!” Dan exploded. “If he were in an evergreen forest, he’d start looking for a date palm!”
Mr. Hatfield whistled several times and waited for an answering signal. None came.
“Red and Chips can’t be far away,” he said.
“Want me to go after them?” Brad volunteered.