“Softie!” jeered Midge. “Maybe you could sit down somewhere on a nice comfortable log and we could bring the pheasants to you.”
“Aw, cut it,” Chips growled. “Can’t a guy crack a remark without being accused of turning soft?”
Mr. Hatfield and Dan, who were leading the Cubs, now halted unexpectedly, bringing the entire line up short.
Quite without warning, a heavy-set, round-faced man in checkered flannel shirt and corduroy breeches, emerged from behind a tree. Clearly he meant to block the trail.
“What are you boys doing here?” he flung at them.
Mr. Holloway moved past the Cubs to stand beside Dan and the Cub master.
Sam answered politely: “We’re on our way to Mr. Silverton’s pheasant farm. This trail leads there, I believe?”
“You’re on Silverton’s land now. He told you to come here, did he?”
“Why, no. We’re a Den of Cub scouts, and we thought we’d ask permission—”
“You’re trespassers,” the stranger cut in.
“I assure you we do not mean to be. We very much would like to visit the farm.”
“Well, you can’t. Mr. Silverton doesn’t want no-account boys running wild over the place. They scare the pheasants and make no end of trouble.”
“The Cubs are reliable,” said Mr. Hatfield quietly. “I assure you, you’ll have no difficulty on that score.”
“If we might see Mr. Silverton—” the Cub leader began, but again the other interrupted.
“Well, you can’t,” he snapped. “I’m Saul Dobbs, and I’m in charge here. Now get out before I lose patience.”
Glaring at the Cubs, the workman carelessly allowed his hand to drop to his belt where he carried a revolver in a holster. The gesture was not lost upon either Mr. Hatfield or the Cubs.
“We’ll go,” said the Cub leader, still without raising his voice. “But don’t think you’re scaring us.”
“Git going and don’t come back!” Saul Dobbs ordered in a blustering voice.
“You may hear from us again after we have talked to Mr. Silverton,” said Mr. Hatfield. “Meanwhile, good-bye.”
With dignity, he turned and led the crestfallen Cubs back along the twisting trail.
No sooner were the Cubs well beyond the hearing of Saul Dobbs than they broke into excited argument over whether or not they should have submitted to his threats.
“Why didn’t we just tell him to go jump in the river?” Chips demanded furiously. “Just who does he think he is, anyhow?”