Mr. Holloway. “But that’s neither here nor there. The point is, through your carelessness, you’ve cast reflection on all the Cubs. Brad and Dan pledged the Den’s honor to Mr. Silverton.”
Chips hung his head. Red, twisting the gray feathers in his hands, avoided the level gaze of the Den Dad.
“We didn’t know we were breaking the rules,” Chips mumbled. “Dan only gave us one look at the map. How were we to tell—”
“Alibis don’t go with me,” said Mr. Holloway. “Well, the deed is done. The next question is, what are we to do about it?”
“If we get away from here before Saul Dobbs catches on, no one will be the wiser,” Chips said.
“And is that what you think we should do, Chips? Sneak out of here and keep quiet?”
“Well, I don’t know,” Chips said, hanging his head. “It was just a mistake.”
“But you and Red broke the rules. While you may not have intended to disobey, you weren’t careful.”
“Why not go to Mr. Silverton and tell him exactly what happened?” proposed Dan. “If he’s the right sort, he’ll accept our apology and not hold it against anyone.”
“How does that sound to you?” Mr. Holloway asked the two offenders.
“Suits me,” agreed Chips, while Red nodded morosely.
“I’ll have to talk this over with Mr. Hatfield and the other Cubs,” said the Den Dad. “But the idea sounds good to me.”
“It will mean a trip to Mr. Silverton’s office,” said Brad. “Probably it’s too late to see him today.”
“Tomorrow will have to do,” said Mr. Holloway. “Well, we have no right here. Let’s get back where we belong.”
Returning to the Cubs who waited by the creek, the Den Dad explained briefly what had happened.
“Chips and Red are willing to apologize to Mr. Silverton tomorrow,” he said. “I hope that will square matters. Brad, I think it might be well for you and Dan to go along, since you’ve already met Mr. Silverton.”
“I’ll be glad to, sir,” said Brad, while Dan nodded.
Aware that Chips and Red already were worried by their mistake, the Cubs did not plague them with questions or accusations. But everyone felt depressed by the outcome of the little excursion.
“By the way,” said Mr. Holloway, as the group left the creek, “someone should mention this log jam to Mr. Silverton tomorrow. It worries me. I figure he can’t know about it, or he’d have ordered it cleared away.”
“I’ll be glad to speak of it,” offered Dan.
He fell into step with Chips and Red, who for a long while walked in gloomy silence.
“I don’t see why Silverton’s so fussy about the Cubs going into that restricted section anyhow,” Chips grumbled.
“Guess he’s afraid his special breed of Germain peacock pheasants will be disturbed,” Dan said easily.
“Sure, that’s what he told you. But why keep the Cubs out when he lets others go there?”
“What do you mean—others?”
“Well, when Red and I were picking up those feathers we heard voices back of us in the woods—men’s voices.”
“That’s right,” Red agreed. “Someone must have driven up in a car on the old logging road, because we thought we could hear an engine running on the other side of the creek.”
“You must have good ears,” Dan said. “We didn’t hear any car. Or any voices either.”
Mr. Hatfield, who had been walking ahead, had overheard Red’s remark. Dropping back, he fell into step with the Cubs, listening rather attentively. Being a native, he knew that section very well.
“That old logging road hasn’t been used in years and has been allowed to grow up in weeds,” he said, thinking aloud. “I was told the sportsman fenced it off where it crosses the main highway. When the pavement went in three years ago, it nipped off the terminal of the logging road.”
“Maybe Dobbs or some of the workmen drove a car back in there,” Dan remarked.
“It wasn’t Dobbs,” Red insisted. “He has a gruff, husky voice. There were two men. One spoke in a high, almost squeaky voice, and the other was just a mumble.”
“Did you see the men or hear what they were saying?” Mr. Hatfield asked Red.
“No, we didn’t pay too much attention. Anyway, they were off quite a distance. But if Silverton lets others go into that section, I don’t see why he hangs barbed wire around us!”
“That has nothing to do with it,” Mr. Hatfield replied. “We gave our promise to stay away from the restricted area, and we broke it.”
“Chips and I already have said we’d explain to him,” Red mumbled, accepting the rebuke.
Without meeting Saul Dobbs, the Cubs returned to the river’s edge. Mr. Holloway took the first boatload of boys across to the cabin. Mr. Hatfield made the second trip, finally coming back for Brad and Dan, the only ones left on the far shore.
“How about taking a little jaunt upstream with me?” the Cub leader suggested, shoving off.
“Where to?” Dan asked quickly, surprised by the question.
“I’m curious to see the exit of that old logging road,” Mr. Hatfield explained.
“Let’s go!” urged Brad, eager for adventure. “What do you expect to find, Mr. Hatfield?”
“I’m not sure I’ll find anything, Brad. Let’s just charge this trip off to curiosity.”
Rowing against the strong current proved slow and hard work. But finally, the Cub leader nosed the boat into a sheltered cove. Brad and Dan helped him pull the craft high out of water.
Scrambling up the steep slope, Mr. Hatfield and the two boys walked along the pavement to the exit of the old abandoned logging road. A rail fence blocked it off from the main highway.
“Before the highway went through, this logging road ended at the river,” Mr. Hatfield explained. “Logs were hauled out and floated downstream to a paper mill at West Haven.”
“When was the logging road abandoned?” Brad asked curiously.
“Oh, at least eight years ago. The road was used some, I think, until Silverton bought the woodland property for a game preserve. Then he fenced off the exit to prevent trespassers from driving through.”
From where Dan stood, he could see only a short distance up the weed-choked dirt road. Why, he wondered, was Mr. Hatfield so interested? By this time he knew the Cub leader never did anything without a purpose.
“Let’s
