“What do you mean, ‘as you did today?’” Brad alertly tripped him up.
The remark had slipped from Dan unintentionally. He certainly didn’t want the Cubs to think that he was jittery. Or that he was imagining things. He remained silent.
“You did see someone again today at the church?”
“No,” Dan answered. “It was just a feeling I had while we were in the church. You’ll laugh I know, but I had the strangest feeling that we were being watched.”
“I can’t explain it. As I said, it was just a feeling. I—I felt as if everything we said and did inside that building was being noted.”
“That was imagination, I’m afraid,” Mr. Hatfield smiled. “I can understand the feeling though. The church interior was quiet and filled with strange echoes. Don’t give it too much thought Dan.”
Feeling slightly rebuked, Dan made no mention of the incident of the tapping bell. Nor did Chips speak of it. Neither of them believed that there were ghosts either at the old church or anywhere.
One by one the Club leader dropped the boys off at their separate homes. He promised that the moment he had anything to report about the church matter, he would call a special meeting.
Meanwhile, the Cubs continued to make plans for the Friday night ice cream party. Search as they would, however, they could not locate even a single ice cream freezer.
“No hope of getting those two in the church basement either,” Dan gloomily remarked to Brad Tuesday night after school. The two boys stood at a street corner, books under their arms. “For that matter, I wouldn’t even ask Old Terry to borrow ’em now.”
Unobserved by the two Cubs, Pat Oswald and a companion had come up behind them. As Dan turned he saw the pair and knew they deliberately had been listening.
“What’s that about Old Terry?” Pat asked.
“Oh, I heard what you said. You want to borrow an old ice cream freezer from him, and he won’t let you have it.”
“Anything wrong in wanting a freezer?” Brad asked pleasantly. “Maybe you know where we can get one.”
“Maybe I do,” Pat grinned. “But I wouldn’t tell, not in a million years. I’d hate to be a Cub!”
“You’d hate to be one?” Dan demanded. Pat’s manner irritated him. He disliked the older boy’s smug smile and attitude of knowing-it-all. “Why?”