"You stole the money from the church-or rather from Mr. Hatfield's place!" Dan accused. "It's not your box!"

"Hand it over!" the tramp ordered again, moving a step closer. He reached his hand into his pocket as if for a weapon.

"Better do it, Dan," Brad advised quietly.

Even then the boy was reluctant to relinquish the box.

Appraising his chances, he gazed beyond the tramp. Through the open door he could see Chips and Midge moving in closer.

A daring plan flashed into his mind. But should he risk trying it? The chances were about even that he would fail.

Chips was a star baseball player and his reactions were fast. But would they be speedy enough?

"Listen, you!" the tramp ordered again. "Give me that box!"

Dan no longer dared stall. Chips and Midge were quite close to the door now, though not near enough to attack the tramp from the rear. Behind the two, almost in line were Fred and Jack who had hastened up from the direction of the creek.

For Dan's purpose, the line-up was very nearly perfect. The moment had come. He had to take the chance and hope that the other Cubs didn't m.u.f.f it.

"Sure, I'll give you the box," he said. "CATCH!"

Even before Dan shouted the word, he had tossed the box in a high arch over the tramp's head.

Belatedly the man made a leap for it, but he clutched only air.

Behind him, the box was falling almost directly into Chips' hands.

"Get it!" shouted Dan.

Chips already was closing his hands upon the box. He fumbled, recovered and held fast.

"Pa.s.s it!" shouted Dan. "Pa.s.s!"

The command momentarily confused Chips. But as the angry tramp started toward him, he suddenly realized what Dan meant.

Pivoting, he shoved the box into Midge's hands.

By now, all the Cubs had caught onto the trick.

Midge ran a few steps and tossed the box to Fred.

"Come back here, you!" shouted the tramp furiously.

Forgetting Dan and Brad, he started in pursuit of Fred and the box.

The two boys ran out of the shack.

"Make for Mrs. Jones' place!" Dan shouted.

Fred was a fast runner and already had a long start on the tramp.

But to the alarm of the Cubs, the man did not give up the chase.

Determined to recover the box, he kept after him.

Brad rounded up Jack and the other Cubs, heading for the road, by a shorter route. Anxiously, they looked about for Mr. Hatfield and police officers, but the highway was entirely deserted.

"Something's delayed them," Brad said anxiously, scribbling a note which he speared on a barb of the wire fence. "I hope he finds this. I've told him to look for us at Mrs. Jones'."

The Cubs had reached the road a minute or two ahead of Fred. Soon they saw him rolling under a fence thirty yards farther down the highway.

"Good boy!" Dan exclaimed. "He still has the box!"

The Cubs raced to join Fred. Brad relieved him of the money container.

"We can't stop to pick any daisies!" Fred panted. "That ape is right on my heels!"

"Let's have it out with him!" Chips exclaimed. "We're seven to one-lots o' fun!"

"We're heading for Mrs. Jones' place!" Brad ordered firmly. "I think the fellow has a knife. We're taking no chances on being carved."

The Cubs loped off, leaving the tramp farther and farther behind.

"Guess he's given up the chase now," Midge said, as they drew near the Jones' home. "No, by George! He's still following!"

"Say, what if Mrs. Jones isn't at home?" Babe quavered. "What'll we do then?"

"Don't dig up trouble," Dan advised him. "Wait until it nudges you in the shoulder."

He pounded on the door with his fist. The Cubs waited uneasily. The tramp had turned into the lane and was running faster now.

"Wait, boys!" he shouted. "I got something to tell you!"

"He probably wants to give us a stick of candy!" Dan muttered. "Oh, why doesn't Mrs. Jones open the door-"

Just then, the widow did answer the knock.

"Let us in and we'll explain later," Dan said breathlessly. "That tramp is after us!"

Without asking questions, Mrs. Jones hustled the Cubs into the house.

"Better lock the door," Brad advised, setting the money box on the kitchen table. "That bird may try to break in."

"Let him!" said Mrs. Jones. Nevertheless, she locked the kitchen door as the boy had advised.

The Cubs barely had time to explain where they had obtained the money, than the man was pounding to be let in.

"Don't do it," Brad advised the widow. "He's a tough customer. Better let the police handle him."

Chips and Midge had gone to the window to look out.