“I was just wondering about that road across the creek,” the Cub leader said vaguely.
He passed the matter off as of no consequence. Except for Dan, the Cubs forgot the matter entirely, because at that moment, Brad gave an excited shout. In poking about along the sandy shore, he had made a disconcerting discovery.
The Cubs quickly joined him along the rim of the racing stream.
“We’ve got to find Chips and Red right away!” he informed the group. “See where their tracks lead!”
The Den Chief pointed to a series of heel marks, leading directly away from the stream.
Clearly, Red and Chips after reaching the site of the log jam, had left the main trail.
Selecting another, they had continued on, walking into the forbidden area of Mr. Silverton’s property!
“For the love o’ lemons!” exploded Dan as he saw for himself that the trail of footprints led into the restricted area of the Silverton property. “What got into Red and Chips?”
“They knew we gave our promise to Mr. Silverton,” Brad said, deeply troubled. “And now, first crack, they go wandering off.”
“Let’s drag ’em back here before Saul Dobbs learns about it,” advised Fred. “It would give him a good excuse for heaving us all off the place.”
Mr. Hatfield and Midge’s father were even more troubled than the Cubs over the actions of Chips and Red.
“We shouldn’t all enter the restricted area,” Mr. Holloway said. “I’ll take Brad and Dan and go after them. The rest wait here with Sam.”
With the Den Chief and Dan at his heels, Mr. Holloway rapidly followed the trail which, after leaving the creek, presently came out at a cleared area.
Directly ahead, they saw the two missing Cubs.
“Wahoo! Wahoo!” shouted Dan to attract their attention.
Red and Chips, who had their backs turned, whirled around to face the approaching trio. Seemingly unaware that they had committed any offense, they came trotting toward the group.
“See what we found!” Chips cried, extending his hands which were filled with gray pheasant tail feathers.
Red had a similar collection. “We’re going to use these for an Indian headdress!” he announced. “We can enter it in the Pack’s Indian craft exhibit at the end of the summer, and maybe win first prize!”
“You win first prize for being the Den’s No. 1 Dodo,” Brad said furiously. “Cripes! Can’t a fellow trust you a minute?”