Deeply disturbed by their meeting with Saul Dobbs, the two boys speculated upon how he had learned that Chips and Red had entered the restricted area.
“He couldn’t have seen them there or he’d have made a fuss about it yesterday,” reasoned Brad. “No, he’s learned about it since. Maybe he came upon footprints.”
At the next corner, the two boys entered a drugstore where they telephoned Mr. Hatfield to report the failure of their mission. The Cub leader’s answer was reassuring.
“Don’t worry about it,” he advised. “I’ll talk to Mr. Silverton myself when he returns to the city. I’m sure everything can be straightened out.”
The conversation lifted a load from the minds of the two Cubs. During the next two days, Brad and Dan went about their usual affairs, not giving the matter too much thought. True, they twice telephoned Mr. Silverton’s office, only to be told he had not returned to the city.
However, at the Pack meeting held Saturday night at Mr. Holloway’s cabin, their failure to clear up the misunderstanding was brought forcibly to attention.
Without consulting anyone, Chips and Red had made their collection of pheasant feathers into an Indian headdress. With more enthusiasm than tact, they proudly displayed their handiwork to the Den members.
“Neat, huh?” Chips asked Brad. “Do you think it might win a prize in the Pack handicraft show?”
“The workmanship is all right,” Brad admitted reluctantly. “But those feathers—well, I wish you hadn’t used ’em.”
“They were lying on the ground, going to waste.”