"If you please, sir, I didn't put the brushwood as close as that," replied the gardener, stoutly. "Somebody else did that."
"What!" cried the senator, in surprise.
"I said I didn't put the brushwood so close to the garage, sir," repeated the gardener. "I put it right there," and he pointed to a spot about fifteen feet from the rear wall of the building. "I was going to burn it up first thing in the morning,—that is if the young gentlemen didn't want the stuff for a bonfire at night."
"But who did put the brushwood up against the garage?" demanded Senator Morr.
"I'm sure I don't know," put in the chauffeur. "But what James says, sir, is true—he put the heap out there—I was working around the garage when he did it."
"Do you mean to insinuate that this fire was set by somebody?" cried the senator, quickly.
"I don't know about that, sir," answered the chauffeur, while the gardener merely shrugged his shoulders. He was an old man and one who had been trusted by the Morrs for years.
"If what you say is true, I'll have to look into this matter," remarked Senator Morr. "I don't propose to have my garage burnt down, with two automobiles worth five thousand dollars,—not to say anything about the danger to the rest of the place. If I find——"
Bang! It was an explosion like a cannon and made everybody jump. As Dave looked, he saw a corner of a distant fence fly apart, and bits of fire seemed to fill the midnight air. Then followed utter silence.