“It doesn’t seem so to me, Dan. It’s possible that someone else borrowed his boat. However, since we failed to get the license number, it’s useless to speculate.” “Odd that the boat was showing no lights,” Dan said thoughtfully. “Also, I wonder if it carried a license?” By this time even the faint roar of the motorboat’s engine had died away far up the river. Mr. Holloway and the Cubs knew by following the sound that the craft had not returned to the Webster City Yacht Club. Where it would dock they could not guess. “You’ll try to make those men pay for the damage, won’t you, Dad?” Midge demanded. The shore now was so close he could see the twinkling lights which marked the outline of the yacht club slip. “I certainly will if I can, Midge. Unfortunately, we have no proof it was Manheim’s boat.” “He may have a few scratches to show, Dad.” “Yes, if we notice tomorrow that his speedboat is banged up, we can be quite certain he’s the guilty party. Even so, we’ll have to be rather careful in taking the matter up with him. Manheim has many friends in the club.” “He won’t have ’em long if he makes a practice of running down sailboats,” said Midge. “We’re lucky our boat didn’t sink.” Five minutes later, the dinghy, heavily logged with water, limped to its berth at the yacht club dock. “Hurry on to your Cub Scout meeting, boys,” Mr. Holloway urged. “I’ll look after the boat and make a few inquiries around the club.” Thus urged, Dan and Midge hastened along a graveled path which curled toward a steep hillside overlooking the water front. A long flight of wooden steps led up to a natural limestone cave in the rocks high above the beach. Some months before, the Cubs by hard labor had converted this cavern into a meeting place. The room now was attractively furnished with a couch, table, magazines and trophies. Breathless from hurrying, the boys reached the Cave entranceway. Already the Cub meeting was in progress. Sam Hatfield, athletic coach at Webster High School, and Cub leader, stood in the center of the cavern talking earnestly to the boys. Grouped about him in the lighted room were Brad Wilber who was Den Chief, Chips Davis, Red Suell, Mack Tibbets, and Sam’s own son, Fred Hatfield. “Glad to see you, boys,” the Cub leader greeted Dan and Midge. “But aren’t you a little late?” Stammering apologies, Dan and Midge explained that they had been delayed on the river. Without mentioning Mr. Manheim’s name, they related how their boat had been smashed. “I knew something unusual must have kept you away from the meeting,” declared the Cub leader. “Too bad about Mr. Holloway’s boat. I hope you catch those fellows.” “Have we missed much of the meeting, Mr. Hatfield?” Dan asked anxiously. “Not the treasure hunt,” the Cub leader reassured him. “We just wound up the business meeting. Briefly, the Den has decided upon two goals for the summer. The first is to win the Pack swimming meet next month.”