“Mr. Bennett thinks we set it on fire,” he said in a low tone, and glancing over his shoulder as though he expected to see the owner of the carpenter shop behind him. “He heard we were in his shop yesterday.”
“Well, suppose we were—we didn’t set it on fire!” said Bobby crossly. He was cross because he was worried. It is not very pleasant to be told that someone suspects you of setting his shop on fire.
“No, of course we didn’t,” agreed Fred. “But you know Bertrand says Mr. Bennett doesn’t like boys, and I suppose if he had caught us in there he would have been awfully mad. And now he knows we were in there, he’s sure we did it.”
“Who told him we were in his shop?” asked Bobby suddenly.
“Bertrand says some of the neighbors saw us climb in,” explained Fred. “Bertrand’s over at my house now, waiting for us. He told me. And Palmer Davis is there, too, and Elmer Lambert.”
Bobby and Fred found the other three boys in Fred’s yard. They looked serious and no one suggested football. Evidently Bertrand had been telling them more about Mr. Bennett.
“He’s so mad,” reported Bertrand when he saw Fred and Bobby, “he’s so mad, I don’t dare go on that side of the street. I saw it burning last night—everybody on our street woke up when the engines came. And a solid mahogany china closet he was carving was burned, and my father says he never had any insurance.”
“But we didn’t burn his shop,” argued Bobby. “Look how long ago we were in there—yesterday morning and it never burned down till late at night. Doesn’t that show we didn’t do it?”
“Well, Mr. Bennett says maybe we tipped over oil or varnish or something and it took a long time to soak into the wood and then it caught fire from the stove he had in the corner,” explained Bertrand.
“Did he tell you that?” demanded Bobby.