coal.”

“I’ll go with you, Brad,” Dan offered.

The two boys descended a narrow, dimly lighted stairway to the church basement.

Walls were damp to the touch. In several places water oozed in through cracks in the decaying masonry.

Cobwebs hung from the overhead beams. In the semi-darkness, Dan ran into one, cringing as it wrapped silken threads about his throat.

“Glug, glug,” he entoned, making a strangling sound. “I’m being choked to death!”

“Cut it out!” Brad ordered. He reached for a switch and the basement room became flooded with light. “What you trying to do? Work up a case of nerves?”

Dan laughed and opened the iron door of the cavernous furnace.

Mr. Hatfield had built his fire well, but it needed more fuel.

“I’ll heave some in,” he offered.

While Brad poked at the coals, Dan went to the bin.

The shovel had disappeared. But after hunting a while, he found it behind the bin door.

Selecting smaller lumps, Dan fed the furnace two large shovelfuls. The coals leaped into fiery flame.

“Better give ’er a couple more for good measure,” Brad advised.

Dan trotted back to the bin. As his shovel bit deep into the coal pile, it struck an object which gave off a metallic sound.

Curious as to what it might be, the boy dug deeper. His shovel brought to view a square metal box approximately a foot square.

“Jeepers creepers!” he whispered in awe. “How’d this get here?”

CHAPTER 2
The Metal Box

Stooping low, Dan lifted the metal box from the shovel. It was surprisingly heavy.

The boy tugged at the lid, but it stubbornly resisted his efforts.

From the furnace room, the waiting Brad now called impatiently:

“Hey, slow poke! Hurry up with that coal, will you? You’ve been in that bin a couple of hours!”

Dan emerged into the light. His hands were smeared with coal dust. So was his blue Cub Scout uniform. A long black smudge lay across his cheek.

“Say, what you been doing in there?” Brad demanded, staring at him. “If you aren’t a sight!”

Dan ignored the gibe. Grinning triumphantly, he thrust the metal box into the astonished Brad’s hand.

“Look at this,” he directed. “What d’you say? Did I waste my time in that coal bin?”

Brad stared at the box and then shook it hard.

“You found this under the coal?” he demanded almost in disbelief.

“You catch on fast,” Dan grinned. “I found it under the coal.”

“Well, what are we waiting for? Why don’t we open it?”

“Go ahead,” Dan encouraged.

Brad pried at the lid but could not raise it.

“Stuck,” he observed. “At least the box doesn’t seem to be locked.”

Determined to open it, Brad rapped one corner of the lid against the hard cement floor.

The cover flew back so suddenly that an object tumbled out.

Brad and Dan stared. At their feet lay a package of bank notes, neatly held together with a rubber band.

“Money!” Dan exclaimed. “Twenty dollar notes! Must be counterfeit.”

“Gosh, it looks genuine enough,” Brad muttered, equally dumbfounded. “And look at the rest of ’em here in the box!”

The boys counted ten stacks of paper money. Some were in fives and tens, but a larger portion was in twenty dollar bills with at least a few fifties.

“Say, there must be a couple thousand here,” Brad said, making a rough estimate. “Maybe more. Where’d you say you found it?”

Dan showed him the place in the coal bin. “How d’you suppose it got here?” he demanded.

“That’s what I’d like to know. Someone must have hidden it here.”

“Sure, but who would leave a pile of money kicking around loose? Anyone who would risk it must be crazy.”

“I’ll bet a cookie someone hid it here in the empty bin—”

“The bin isn’t empty.”

“Of course it isn’t now,” Brad said impatiently. “But you remember the church has been closed. Coal probably was loaded in here only a day or so ago. It was heaved in through the chute and no one saw the box.”

“Your theory is as good as any,” Dan admitted. “Anyway, we’re rich.”

Brad gave a snort of disgust. “Rich, my eye! You’re not such a dum bunny as to think we can keep this money?”

“But if no one should claim it—”

“It will be claimed fast enough. In any case, we’re not getting ourselves mixed up in anything. We turn this box over to Mr. Hatfield—right now.”

“Sure, I guess you’re right,” Dan admitted. “I intended to show it to him. Only I thought if no one claimed the box, the money might go into the Cub’s treasury or maybe the church building fund.”

“That’s an idea,” nodded Brad. “But let’s not count any chickens—or rather, cash! I have a hunch whoever planted this money here won’t forget about it!”

Excited over their discovery, the two boys hastily tossed another shovelful of coal on the fire.

Then, carrying the precious metal box, they took the stairway two steps at a time.

As they burst into the Cub meeting, Mr. Hatfield was explaining the different types of armor used by knights in early days.

“One type was made of steel mesh”—the Cub leader said, and his voice trailed off.

“Excuse us, sir,” Brad apologized. “Dan found this box in the basement. It’s full of money!”

The Cubs would have suspected the two boys of playing a practical joke. However, Brad floored them by plumping the box itself on the table.

He jerked back the lid, revealing the packages of money.

“Ye gads!” shrieked Red. “Is it real?”

“Where’d you find it?” demanded Midge, fingering one of the fat packages. “Inside the furnace?”

“Would that be likely with a fire going?” Brad demanded. “Dan dug it out of the coal pile. Must be a couple thousand dollars here at least.”

“Let’s count it,” proposed Fred Hatfield.

Sam, who was Fred’s father, had not spoken. However, very soberly he had been examining not only the metal box, but many of the packages of money.

“Do you think it’s genuine, sir?” Dan asked eagerly.

“I’m not an expert on money,” the Cub leader replied. “But this looks like straight goods to me.”

“How do you suppose the box came to be here in the church?” Brad asked.

“I haven’t the slightest idea. It bothers me though. I must notify the pastor and the church trustees at once. Also, the discovery should be reported to the police.”

The Cubs wanted to see the exact spot where Dan had found the money box. For that matter, so did Mr. Hatfield.

They all trooped down into the basement to re-examine the coal bin. The Cub leader could find no clue as to the person who might have hidden the box.

True, he pointed out several large-size shoeprints visible on the dusty basement floor. But he agreed with Dan and Brad that they likely had been made by workmen who had repaired the furnace.

“Say, maybe one of the workmen hid the box!” Red exclaimed.

Mr. Hatfield said he considered the possibility an unlikely one. However, he would not venture even a guess as to who might have left the box in the coal bin.

“For all we know, it might even be stolen money,” he commented.

Dan, who had stood near the foot of the basement stairs, had heard an unusual sound overhead.