“Sure, I know,” Brad sighed. “I guess there wasn’t anything wrong about taking ’em, except that they were picked up where we had no business to be.”
“Then you think we shouldn’t enter the headdress in the handicraft show?” Chips demanded, a trifle sullenly. “After all the work Red and I did?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Brad said uncomfortably. “I’ll have to ask Mr. Hatfield. I’m all mixed up. I just wish Silverton would get back so we could talk this over and clear up things.”
Troubled, the older boy looked about for the Cub leader. Both he and Mr. Holloway were talking to the parents of the Cubs, answering a multitude of questions. They were so busy he could not get near either of them.
“Come on, Brad, join in the singing,” called Mrs. Holloway, signaling him from across the room.
To please her, Brad mingled with the group. At the top of their lungs, the Cubs were warbling:
“Old Akela had a Pack. E I E I O,
And in this Pack he had some Dens. E I E I O.
With Den 1 here, and Den 2 there
Here a Den, there a Den,