"I was in luck to get out of the scrape as well as I did," returned Matt. "You're a friend of Merton's?"
"I was. Early this morning we had a quarrel, so we're not quite so friendly. Have you any idea what caused the fire?"
"Yes," said Matt bluntly; "firebugs."
"You're positive of that?"
"My friend McGlory, there, was watching outside the boathouse. He was set upon by two negroes, knocked down, tied hand and foot, gagged and dragged off where he would not be in the way. Then the two scoundrels set fire to the building while Lorry, the Chinese boy, and I were sound asleep inside."
Something like trepidation crossed Mart Rawlins' face.
"McGlory is sure that the men were negroes who assaulted him?" queried Rawlins in a shaking voice.
"He's positive."
"Then," breathed Rawlins, as though to himself, "there's no doubt about it."