“The lodge was burnt down by accident,” answered Joe. “We are willing to pay a fair amount for the damage done.”
“Humph! And what made ye come over here to camp out?” asked Skeetles, anxiously.
“Because we felt like it,” answered Fred.
“I said ye could stay over to the lodge, not here.”
“Well, we came here,” put in Joe. “But we are not going to stay very long. I and Harry are going home, and I guess the rest will go with us.”
The real estate dealer looked at the Westmore boys sharply.
“Did ye find—er—anything belongin’ to me around here?” he asked, suspiciously.
“We did—a pocketbook and these cards and papers,” answered Joe, boldly, and handed over what belonged to the miserly man.
“What!” Hiram Skeetles turned first red and then white. “Did ye—er—find anything else?”
“Nothing belonging to you, Mr. Skeetles.”