“Not so much damaged,” observed Frank, as the three boys went aboard, and examined the craft with a lantern. “But how in the world did it start—or, rather, who put the hay here and set fire to it?”
“That’s the question,” admitted Bob. “All I know is that I was standing talking to dad, when I smelled smoke, and saw it coming from your boat.”
“Did you see anyone around it to-night?” Andy wanted to know.
“Not a soul. We’ll ask the pier master.”
But when the boys, after making sure that no sparks of fire remained, had gone back to the float, the dock master could give them no information. He had not noticed any suspicious characters about, but it was admitted that under cover of darkness, before the moon had risen, someone might have rowed silently to the side of the Gull and started the fire smoldering in the bale of hay.
“But why would they want to do it?” asked Captain Trent.
“Give it up,” said Frank. “Well, we might as well get back home, Andy. Will you keep your eyes open for any more fires, Mr. Robinson?” he asked of the caretaker of the yacht station.
“Sure I will, and they’ll find they’re in the wrong harbor if they try any more tricks like that.”
“Have you any suspicions?” asked Andy of his brother, as they were on their way home.
“I sure have,” was the answer.