“We started a fire at Fountain Falls,” Judy said. “You knew about that. We put it out too!”
“Anyway, that’s miles from here!” Betty Bashe broke in. “This fire started close to our camp.”
“Exactly my point,” replied Diethelm. “Any other cook-outs last night?”
“Our unit had one,” spoke up a Scout from the Lone Tree patrol. “We were accompanied by our leaders though, and built our fire on a rock. Every spark was extinguished before we left the spot.”
“That’s what you thought,” Diethelm said, none too pleasantly. “I’m not saying the Scouts started this fire, but I do say, it looks rather suspicious. If the fire hadn’t been reported so quickly, the entire camp might have burned.”
“That’s for sure,” agreed Arthur Wentz. “But I think you’re being unjust to the girls, Lowell. The fire may have been started by a carelessly dropped cigarette or a match. Or it could have been deliberately set.”
“What’s that?” Diethelm demanded, startled.
“Just a little thought I had,” Wentz replied with an odd smile.
Diethelm seemed to have been made uncomfortable by the remark and pursued the subject no further. He gulped down his coffee and soon left the kitchen.
“Don’t take what he said too seriously,” Wentz told the Scouts. “This camp has a good record. No one knows how the fire started.”