The island owner ignored the Cub leader, turning to Brad, Dan and Chips.

"How would you boys like a beach barbecue? A really big affair?"

"Swell!" Chips agreed.

"We'll invite all the Cubs in Webster City. Make it a bang-up affair.

Tonight, shall we say?"

"You're moving a bit fast for me," said Mr. Hatfield. "How can you plan such an affair on short notice?"

"Leave that to me," said Mr. Manheim, pressing the desk buzzer. "We'll call in a caterer, a friend of mine who will take care of every detail.

Your job, Mr. Hatfield, will be to have the Cubs there on the island."

"I don't doubt the boys will jump at the chance for a barbecue even on short notice," Mr. Hatfield replied. "But what about transportation?"

"My motorboat will be available. And Jabowski can take the overflow on a motor raft he has at the island."

"Well-" Mr. Hatfield gazed dubiously at the Cubs. "I hardly know what to say. It's such short notice-"

"The trouble with you, Sam, is that you're not in the habit of making quick decisions," the other said jovially. "You have your boys at the dock at seven o'clock. I'll take care of everything else."

"All right," Mr. Hatfield agreed. "I'll get in touch with the Cub leader of Den 1. I only hope you aren't biting off more than you can chew."

"Never have yet," the island owner said, escorting the party to the door.

"See you tonight. We'll have a jamboree that will give those Cubs the thrill of their young lives!"

"But what about that man we saw at the spring?" Dan half-protested. "If he should be hanging around-"

"Leave that to Jabowski," Mr. Manheim dismissed the subject. "Don't give the matter another thought."

The island owner bowed the Cubs out. When the door had closed firmly behind them, they eyed each other a trifle askance.

"Well, that was fast work if you ask me," Brad said, sucking in his breath. "Mr. Manheim takes care of everything!"

"In typical Manheim style," added the Cub leader unhappily.

"Unfortunately, I've learned from past experience that his plans don't always pan out right."

"Then you're afraid the barbecue won't come off tonight?" Chips asked as the four started down the hallway.

"Oh, it will be held after a fashion," Mr. Hatfield replied. "But Mr.

Manheim is apt to leave too many details unplanned. Another thing-"

"That man at the spring?" Dan supplied as the Cub leader hesitated.

"Yes, I'm not entirely satisfied that Jabowski will attend to him. For that matter, where is Jabowski?"

"No one has seen him since we landed on the island," Brad replied.

"It all adds up to an uncertain picture," Mr. Hatfield said soberly.

"Everything may go well tonight. I hope so. But between you and me and the gate-post, I'm wondering if Mr. Manheim's barbecue may not be a mistake!"

CHAPTER 11 A Barbecue for the Cubs

Despite Mr. Hatfield's misgivings, the jamboree came off that night according to schedule.

At the appointed hour, the island owner's motorboat and the power raft were at the Webster City Yacht Club docks to pick up members of Den 1.

Mr. Manheim personally took command of the speedboat, while his man Jabowski carried the overflow of boys across the river on the open raft.

In an ugly mood, the caretaker complained that the barbecue was "a lot of stupid nonsense."

Actually, he smarted from a lecture delivered by his employer. For three hours that afternoon the island owner had tried to find Jabowski. Finally tracing him to a waterfront tavern, he had warned the man that unless he paid attention to his duties, he would be discharged.

Jabowski blamed the Cubs for the reprimand, and so did his utmost to make them feel uncomfortable.

"Sit still!" he ordered Ross Langdon, who shifted his weight as the raft chugged across the river. "You want to upset us?"

"Aw, I hardly moved," Ross growled. "Anyway, if this raft isn't safe, you shouldn't be taking kids across the river in it."

"The raft's safe enough, if you behave yourselves."

"We are behaving," Ross retorted. "For crying out loud, what's eating you anyhow? You've done nothing but crab since we left the dock."

"You'd crab too if your boss gave orders to have a barbecue on eight hours notice! But that's Manheim for you. Always doing things in the grand manner-only someone else has to do the work!"

Not much impressed by the caretaker's complaints, the Cubs eagerly turned their faces toward Skeleton Island. Huge fires burned on the beach and they could hear the music of an eight-piece band.

"Say, this is going to be a shing-ding!" Ross said, pleased. "We should have a swell time tonight. Good grub, Mr. Jabowski?"

"Baked clams and lobster and roasted ox! That ought to be enough to satisfy you kids and your parents."

"Say! Mr. Manheim's doing all right by us," Ross said, impressed. "We'll have a swell time tonight."

Although the caretaker could have landed the raft at the beach, he proceeded up-island to a dock which extended out into much deeper water.

"Hey, what's the idea, bringing us clear up here?" Ross protested, eager to join the other boys on the island.

"Give your gums a rest, will you?" Jabowski demanded rudely. "I'm handling this raft."

At last after taking his time in fastening the craft to a dock post, he allowed the boys to disembark. Quickly they joined the Cubs from Den 2.

Nearly thirty Cubs and their parents already had arrived at the island.

Mr. Manheim went here and there, shaking hands with the grownups and joking with the boys. The music was excellent, the food plentiful. Yet despite the efforts of everyone to have a good time, the party soon began to go a trifle flat.