Hatfield said. The Cub leader had noticed long marks in the sand, indicating that the boy had dragged himself beyond reach of the waves. "I suppose we'd better send for an ambulance-"

His words trailed off, for the boy on the sand unexpectedly had stirred to life. As if aroused by hearing the Cub leader's remark, he tried to sit up.

"Easy, lad," Mr. Hatfield advised, placing a supporting arm about his shoulders. "We'll get you to a hospital."

The boy's head shook in a vigorous negative. His fingers gripped Mr.

Hatfield's arm in a hard pressure.

"No!" he whispered fiercely. "No!"

Puzzled by the intensity of the boy's reaction, Mr. Hatfield studied him a moment in silence.

"You've been in the river?" he asked as the other offered no information.

Again the head bobbed, this time in an affirmative answer.

"Who are you?" Mr. Hatfield inquired, stripping off his leather jacket and wrapping it about the shivering boy. "How did you get in the river?"

The boy merely stared at the Cub leader and did not answer. Then with a supreme effort, he tried to pull away from the supporting arm.

"I go," he mumbled. "All right now."

"Where will you go?" interposed the Cub leader. "Don't be foolish. You're in no condition to walk. Come on, boys. Let's take him to the Cave."

Having no stretcher or board which could be used as one, Brad and Mr.

Hatfield made a seat of their arms and carried the boy to the steps leading up into the Cave. There they were joined by Mr. Holloway and Red's father who helped.

Once in the Cave, the Cubs made the boy comfortable on a couch. Stripping off his wet garments, they wrapped him in a warm blanket.

"Feeling better?" Mr. Hatfield asked him. "I think I should call a doctor."

"No-please," he mumbled, pleading with his eyes.

To Mr. Hatfield and the fathers of the Cubs it was apparent that the boy slowly was recovering from his ordeal in the river. And it also was evident that for some reason, he did not wish to reveal anything about himself.

"Suppose you tell us your name," Mr. Hatfield suggested, seating himself beside the boy.

The youth regarded him with a stony stare and answered no word.

"Maybe you'll tell us a little later," Mr. Hatfield said kindly.

Deciding to leave the boy alone for awhile, he retired to a far corner of the Cave to talk over the matter with Mr. Suell and Midge's father.

Neither the Cubs nor their fathers ever had seen the boy before.

"It's queer how he came to be in the river," Mr. Hatfield remarked in an undertone. "Plainly, he's trying to hide something."

"Think we should turn him over to the police for investigation?" Mr.

Holloway asked, looking troubled.

"He seems like a good sort," the Cub leader replied. "My judgment would be to wait and see what develops. He may be suffering from shock, though I think his refusal to talk is deliberate."

Brad and Dan, who had taken charge of the boy's wet garments, now approached Mr. Hatfield.

"What is it, boys?" he inquired, aware by their manner that they had an important disclosure to make.

Brad asked the Cub leader if he would step outside to a platform from which the wooden steps descended.

Surprised by the request, Mr. Hatfield followed the two Cubs.

"What's up?" he questioned when they were beyond the hearing of the others. "You've learned something about that youngster?"

"We were hanging up his clothes, and sort of went through his pockets,"

Brad confessed. "Maybe we shouldn't have-"

"On the whole, I think I might have done the same," Mr. Hatfield rea.s.sured him. "The boy evidently has no intention of telling us anything about himself. So I figure it's up to us to puzzle out a few facts for ourselves."

"Here's what we found," Dan said, offering Mr. Hatfield a sc.r.a.p of heavy wrapping paper.

The Cub leader snapped on his flashlight to study the writing. Only two words appeared, preceded by a string of puzzling numerals.

"020614 7552845 24 Skeleton Island."

"Queer," Mr. Hatfield commented. "You say this paper came from the boy's pocket?"

"Yes, it was wadded up inside an old cigarette case," Dan explained.

"That's, why it wasn't water-soaked."

"Find anything else?"

"Only a couple of handkerchiefs, a pocket knife and a few odds and ends,"

Brad replied.

"Nothing to indicate who the boy is or where he came from?"

"Not a thing, sir. The only clue is this sc.r.a.p of paper. What do you make of it, Mr. Hatfield?"

"Frankly, I'm puzzled, Brad. This reference to Skeleton Island seems very odd."

"Do you suppose those numerals could be a code of some sort?" Dan asked eagerly.

"Well, that's hard to say. But by all means hang on to this paper, Dan."

"We sure will," Dan promised, replacing it in his pocket. "If it should be a code maybe we can work it out. The only trouble is, I wouldn't know where to start."

Footsteps now were heard padding softly on the steps leading to the platform.

Gazing down, the Cubs saw that it was Mrs. Holloway, who had arrived. The official Den Mother climbed slowly, carrying a heavy hamper of food.

Dan and Brad darted down the stairs to help with the basket.