Triumphantly, he brought out the tin box. “Dan Carter and the Money Box” (See Page 188)

Contents

1 The Stranger in the Storm 1

2 The Metal Box 13

3 Jack, the Runaway 27

4 High Water 35

5 Two Claimants 43

6 A “Tough” Customer 54

7 The Last Straw 64

8 Round Table Plans 73

9 A “Deserted” House 85

10 Widow Jones 92

11 “Do Your Best” 100

12 A Pair of Legs 111

13 Hot Biscuits 121

14 Beside the Camp Fire 140

15 A Hint from Jack 151

16 Inside the Log 160

17 Through the Window 177

18 Pursuit 190

19 “I Promise” 197

20 Knights of the Round Table 208

CHAPTER 1
The Stranger in the Storm

Burrowing deep into the hoods of their slickers, the two Cub Scouts hastened along the darkening street.

Stinging gusts of rain pelted their faces. The strong wind fairly bowled them off their feet.

“Say Brad, this is awful!”

“It’s sure coming down—and how!” agreed the older boy.

Brad Wilber, dark-haired and serious, was a Boy Scout and a leader among the younger boys. An outstanding athlete and nearly ready for high school, he served as Den Chief of the Webster City Cubs.

His companion, the blue-eyed, sandy-haired Dan Carter, had just turned ten.

Firm of muscle and old for his years, the younger boy grew so fast it was hard to keep him in Cub uniforms.

He and Brad had been good friends ever since Sam Hatfield had organized Den 2. On this particular evening, they had been overtaken by the storm on their way to a Cub meeting at the church.

“Say, let’s hold up a second!” Dan gasped as a heavy curtain of rain veiled the sidewalk ahead.

The pair halted a moment under a store awning, there to catch their breath.

“This may turn to ice or sleet before the night’s over,” Brad said anxiously. “Then watch the cars pile up!”

“It’s almost cold enough for sleet,” Dan agreed with a shiver. “The storm certainly rolled in fast. Maybe Sam Hatfield decided to call off the Cub meeting.”

Brad moved back against the building wall to escape the awning drip. “Not Sam,” he said cheerfully. “He knows the Cubs are tough. Anyway, we’re a little late. The others are probably at the church now, waiting for us.”

From their shelter the two boys could see the church building a half block ahead, on the opposite side of the street.

The windows on the lower floor shone dimly through the wall of rain.

“The place is lighted, so Sam must be there at least,” Brad commented. “Shall we go on now? We don’t want to be late and hold up the meeting.”

“Okay,” Dan agreed, buttoning his slicker which had pulled apart.

Heads low, they bored directly into the wind. The rain scarcely had slackened. Droplets dashed into their eyes, completely blinding them.

The boys were nearly opposite the church when Brad, who was ahead, ran full tilt into a man huddling against a building wall.

“I’m sorry,” the boy apologized. “I didn’t see you standing there.”

“Watch where you’re going next time!” the other growled.

Because the man spoke in such a surly tone, Brad looked him over carefully.

The fellow was no one he ever had seen before. His face, beneath a snap-brim hat which dripped rain, appeared shadowy and unfriendly. He might have been thirty years of age, maybe older. A day-old beard made it difficult to judge.

“Sorry,” Brad apologized again.

He and Dan started on, only to be stopped in their tracks by a question.

“Hey, kids,” the stranger addressed them, “what’s going on over