"I see," said the Cub leader, pocketing his change. "Well, good morning, sir."

Outside the general store, the Cubs gathered in a group to discuss their next move.

"You heard how it stacks up," said Mr. Hatfield. "If we want to visit the farm, we'll have to see Mr. Silverton. That means a trip into Webster City. Is it worth the effort?"

"I wasn't so crazy to see the place at first," said Dan. "But now I am, if only to prove to Saul Dobbs that he can't order us around."

"Same here," agreed Midge promptly.

Red proposed that the Cubs descend upon Mr. Silverton in a delegation.

"That hardly seems wise," replied Mr. Hatfield. "I think someone should stay in camp."

"Why not appoint the ones who are to go?" suggested his son Fred.

"Me for one!" urged Chips instantly. "I can give Mr. Silverton an earful about that workman of his!"

The Cub leader smiled. "That's what I'm afraid you might do, Chips. This mission requires diplomacy and tact-you know, smooth talk and control.

I'll delegate Brad and Dan."

"How'll we get there?" Dan asked, pleased to have been selected.

"I'll take you in my car," offered Midge's father.

The Cubs hiked back to the river and rowed to their camp. Although the rain had ceased, the river, they noted, still was slowly rising.

Mr. Holloway immediately backed his car from the garage, ready for the trip to Webster City.

"Good luck with Mr. Silverton," Sam Hatfield said as Brad and Dan climbed in beside Mr. Holloway. "Just give him the facts."

"And don't be afraid to talk up!" Chips added.

As the car pulled away, Dan stole a quick glance at Brad. Always he had admired the dark-haired older boy who seemed so sure of himself, yet never was conceited. An outstanding athlete for his age, Brad would enter Webster City High School in the fall.

Dan, nearly ten, and fast growing into a bean pole, was considered old beyond his years. Popular with nearly everyone, the sandy-haired, blue-eyed sixth grader entered enthusiastically into all the Den and Pack meetings.

At the Gardner Building twenty minutes later, Mr. Holloway parked the car by a curb meter, and accompanied the boys to Mr. Silverton's fourth floor suite of offices. A receptionist inquired as to their wishes.

"We'd like to see Mr. Silverton, please," Mr. Holloway requested.

The girl's reply was discouraging. "Mr. Silverton is in an important conference," she explained. "He may be detained an hour. Isn't there something I can do?"

Mr. Holloway explained that his business was with Mr. Silverton personally and turned to Brad and Dan. "How about it fellows?" he inquired. "I'd like to wait, but I have an important business matter to look after."

"The Cubs will be disappointed if we go back without even seeing Mr.

Silverton," said Brad. "Can't Dan and I wait for him?"

"I'm sure you two can present the matter without me," Mr. Holloway said, greatly relieved. "I'll try to get back here in about an hour to pick you up. If Mr. Silverton is able to see you before I return, give him the facts."

"Yes, sir," grinned Brad. "We'll do our best."

After the Den Dad had gone, Brad and Dan sat down on a bench to wait.

They studied a wall calendar and listened to the chatter of a ticker tape stock machine in an adjoining office. Time dragged slowly.

"Mr. Holloway will be coming for us soon," Dan said, ill at ease. "I hope Mr. Silverton doesn't forget we're here."

Just then, the receptionist came out of the inner office. "Mr. Silverton will see you now," she announced.

Dan and Brad followed the young woman through a door with frosted gla.s.s into a large comfortable room with thick carpet.

A stout, slightly bald man of nervous manner sat behind a ma.s.sive mahogany desk.

"Yes?" he inquired, his tone implying that he expected the pair to state the purpose of their call as briefly as possible. And then, noticing their uniforms, he inquired: "Boy Scouts?"

"Brad is," Dan corrected politely. "I'm a Cub, Wolf rank."

"A Cub, eh?" Mr. Silverton repeated. "Is that something new in Scouting?"

"It's a program somewhat similar to scouting only for younger boys and the whole family-Mothers and Dads," explained Brad.

"You have an organization motto? All that sort of thing?"

"Oh, yes, sir," informed Dan eagerly. "Our motto is: 'Do your best.'

Every Bobcat who joins the organization also promises to be Square and to obey the Law of the Cub Pack."

"Interesting. Most interesting," said the stock broker. He doodled figures on a scratch pad. "But what brings you here, may I inquire?"

"The Cubs would like to ask permission to visit your pheasant farm," Brad explained.

Mr. Silverton frowned at the request. "My foreman, Saul Dobbs, informs me that recently some of the pheasants have been stolen," he said discouragingly. "Furthermore, boys have been sneaking in and scaring the birds."

"Not the Cubs, sir," said Dan earnestly.

"Perhaps not, but my pheasants represent a considerable investment. I can't risk losing choice birds. I'm sorry, but if Dobbs told you to stay out, I'm afraid I'll have to back him up."

Dan and Brad exchanged a startled glance. Instantly it dawned upon them that the foreman already had prejudiced his employer against the Cubs.

"Dobbs told you about our visit this morning?" Dan asked.

"Yes, he telephoned to report you were there. He said you were quite insistent upon seeing the farm."

"But, sir, that wasn't exactly true," Brad denied. "We were all walking along the trail, when up pops Mr. Dobbs with his revolver. He told us to leave, so we did, without any argument. Mr. Hatfield and Midge's father were along and they'll back me up in the statement."

"You say Dobbs threatened you with a revolver?" Mr. Silverton asked, displeased.

"He didn't exactly threaten us," Dan answered truthfully. "He just put his hand on the holster to let us know he meant business."

"We wouldn't have turned-tail only we're law abiding and we knew we had no right on the property without your consent," added Brad.