He launched into the song which was sung to the tune of "Hail, hail, the gang's all here." The Cubs joined in, singing l.u.s.tily.

At its conclusion, the boys all repeated the Law of the Pack, and the council fire came to an end.

As the Den fathers were tramping out the last of the coals, Dan walked over to the clump of bushes which had been directly in his line of vision. He was relieved to find no one hiding there.

But on the ground beneath a blackberry bush was a sheet of paper torn from a cheap writing tablet. Unable to read it in the darkness, Dan took it to Mr. Hatfield.

The beam of his flashlight picked out the scrawled words: "GET OFF THIS ISLAND. STAY AWAY!"

"A warning, eh?" Mr. Hatfield commented. "This little affair has gone quite far enough!"

"Whoever left the note must have done it only a few minutes ago," Dan said. "I thought I saw someone in the bushes just as you asked me to lead that song."

"The coward!" Mr. Hatfield muttered, folding the warning and placing it in his pocket. "Afraid to show his face. Instead he throws rocks and sneaks up in the darkness."

More annoyed than afraid, the Cub leader made a thorough inspection of the bush where the unknown intruder had hidden only a few minutes before.

A few large footprints had been imbedded in the moist turf. But the one who had left the note, had fled.

"No use trying to track him down in the dark," Mr. Hatfield said in disgust. "Tomorrow I'll take this up with Mr. Manheim."

With another reminder that no mention was to be made of the matter to the other Cubs, the leader sent Dan off to bed.

However, the boy observed that neither Mr. Hatfield nor Mr. Suell turned in. Instead, the two men posted themselves near the entrance to the tents. Throughout the night, they kept a small fire burning.

Dan was awakened by the excited shouts of the other Cubs who were donning trunks for a pre-breakfast swim.

At the beach he raced Brad to the raft where they rested for a moment.

"Anything happen last night?" Dan asked, eager for a report.

"Not that I heard of. Mr. Hatfield and Mr. Suell sat up until dawn. No one came near the camp."

"That's good," Dan said in relief. "If things start popping, our camping trip will be called off. I like it here."

"So do I, Dan. I hope the Scouts buy this site, because if they do, the Cubs will get to come here often. But I know Mr. Hatfield is worried. The way matters are going, he isn't likely to recommend the place as a permanent camp."

"I'm thinking the same," Dan agreed. "Oh, well, maybe Mr. Manheim will take a hand in finding out who's hiding on the island. After all, it's his property."

A call to breakfast sent the two boys racing full-blast for sh.o.r.e. By the time they had scrambled into their uniforms, an appetizing meal of orange juice, bacon and eggs awaited them.

The Cubs ate their fill and then listened as Mr. Hatfield outlined plans for the morning.

"I'll take Dan, Brad and Chips with me to Webster City to pick up a few supplies," the Cub leader said. "Also to attend to an important errand.

Mr. Suell has planned a hike for those who remain behind."

"I'd rather go to Webster City," said Mack, who suspected that he was being excluded from an important mission.

"Me too," chimed in Midge. "Can't we all go?"

"Not this time," Mr. Hatfield turned them down. "We'll make a full report when we get back."

At nine o'clock, the three Cubs and their leader were picked up by launch, according to an arrangement made with a member of the yacht club.

Once on sh.o.r.e, they purchased a few small items. Thereafter, they presented themselves at Mr. Manheim's office and were elated to learn that the island owner was in.

"He'll see you at once," a secretary told them. "First door to your left."

The room which Mr. Hatfield and the Cubs entered through a frosted door was padded with rich, soft carpet.

A heavy-set man with steel-blue eyes sat in a swivel chair behind a desk at the window. Recognizing the Cub leader, he smiled in welcome.

"h.e.l.lo, Sam! What brings you here so bright and early? Another proposition to buy that camp site on Skeleton Island?"

"Not exactly, Mr. Manheim. We're not so sure it's a safe place."

"Skeleton Island not safe?" Mr. Manheim demanded. "What gave you that idea? Sit down and tell me all about it." He waved everyone into chairs.

Mr. Hatfield introduced the three Cubs and then went directly to the point. He related how a stone had been tossed at Dan and showed Mr.

Manheim the warning note.

"Why, someone is playing a joke on you," the island owner said after reading the message. "Don't tell me you take this seriously?"

"We did and do, Mr. Manheim."

"I see nothing to cause alarm. Probably some boys from a rival troop are having a little fun at your expense."

"The stone was hurled by a man," Dan interposed. "I saw his face quite plainly."

"It's possible that tramps have taken up quarters in the underbrush," Mr.

Manheim said reluctantly. "Jabowski's orders are to keep hoodlums away from the island. I'll jack him up a bit if he's been remiss in his duty."

"Jabowski is your caretaker at Skeleton Island?" Mr. Hatfield inquired.

"Yes, he lives there with his nephew."

"We saw neither of them. In fact, the old hotel building seemed to be locked up."

"Jabowski has orders not to leave the island without notifying me," Mr.

Manheim said, frowning. "He must be there."

To Mr. Hatfield and the Cubs it became obvious that the information they had brought was displeasing to the island owner. Apparently to end the interview, he arose and said:

"Now don't worry about a thing. I'll get in touch with Jabowski and have him ascertain that the island is free of trespa.s.sers."

"Thank you, Mr. Manheim. We wouldn't have troubled you only-"

"No trouble at all," Mr. Manheim interrupted the Cub leader. "I always like to help out the Cubs or Scouts. Fact is, I've been thinking for several weeks I'd like to give 'em a bang-up time-a regular jamboree."

"Jamboree?" Mr. Hatfield repeated, rather mystified.