"No," was the answer. "It had been closed for the winter some time ago—in fact as soon as the carpenters finished making the changes. No one was in it as far as I know."
"Then how do you account for this?" asked the chief, as he held out a box partly filled with cigarettes. "I picked these up in the living room," he went on, for the boathouse had one room carpeted, and fitted with chairs and tables, and electric lights where the family often spent evenings during Summer.
"You found those cigarettes in the living room of the boathouse?" asked Mr. Bobbsey.
"I did; and the question is who was smoking?" went on the chief. "In my opinion the end of a cigarette thrown aside, or perhaps a lighted match dropped in some corner, started this fire. Who was smoking?"
CHAPTER XX
A CONFESSION
The chief handed Mr. Bobbsey the half-emptied cigarette box. Mr. Bobbsey turned it over and over in his hand, as though trying to learn to whom it belonged.
"They are something I never use," he said. "I don't suppose we could tell, from this, who had it?"
"No," and the chief shook his head. "It's a common kind, and a good many of the stores sell 'em. A good many of the boys smoke 'em, too—that's the worst of it," and he looked at Bert a bit sharply.
"Oh, you needn't be afraid for my boy!" exclaimed Mr. Bobbsey hastily. "I have Bert's promise that he won't smoke until he's a man, and perhaps he won't want to then."