THANKSGIVING was celebrated in the Bobbsey home as it never had been before. I am afraid if I told you all that went on, of the big, brownroasted turkey, of the piles of crisp turkey, of the pumpkin and mince pies, of the nuts and candies, of the big dishes of cranberry sauce, and the plum pudding that Dinah carried in high above her head—I am afraid if I told you of all these things there would be trouble.
For I am sure you would all be writing to me to ask where the Bobbseys lived, so that you might go and see them, and perhaps spend Christmas with them. Not that they would not be glad to have you, but they have so many friends that their house is sure to be filled over the holidays.
So I will simply say that there was the grandest time ever, and let it go at that.
Uncle and Aunt Bobbsey—Uncle and Aunt Minturn, from the country and seashore, came, with Cousin Dorothy and Cousin Harry then, also, Hal Bingham arrived, and the Bobbsey twins took great delight in showing their former playmates about Lakeport.
"Isn't it lonesome at the seashore now?" asked Nan of Dorothy, as she walked with her cousin about the busy streets of the town.
"Not at all," answered Dorothy. "The sea is never lonesome for me. It always seems to be telling me something, Winter or Summer.
"I love it in the Summer," said Nan, "but in the Winter it seems so cold and cruel."
"That is because you do not know it as well as I do," said Dorothy.
Hal, Harry, and Bert had fine times together. There was no skating, and the little flurry of snow there had been was not enough for coasting, but they had other fun.
"Do your ducks miss our duck Downy?" asked Freddie of his cousin Harry.
"Well, I guess they do," was the laughing answer, for Freddie and Flossie had a pet duck which they took about with them almost as faithfully as they did Snoop. "How is Downy, anyhow?" asked Harry.
"He's fine," answered the little fellow. "Want to see him?" and he took his cousin out to the barn where Downy had a pen all to himself.
"Snoop's gone," said Freddie, "and so is our silver cup, but maybe we'll get that back. It's in a circus."
"In a circus!" cried Harry. "I should think your cat might be in a circus, but not a silver cup."
"We don't know where Snoop is," went on Freddie, "'cause he got away at the time of the circus wreck," and he explained about it. "But we are almost sure the circus fat lady has our cup."
The Thanksgiving holidays came to an end at last and, much to the regret of the Bobbseys, their visitors, old and young, had to go back to their homes.
"But you'll come again at Christmas, won't you?" asked Flossie as she said goodbye.
"We'll try," said her Uncle Bobbsey. "But maybe there won't be room, with Santa Claus and all his reindeers."
"Oh, we'll make room for you," spoke Freddie. "Santa Claus won't stay long."
With a merry peal of laughter the visitors went off to the station, waving farewells. Then came rather a quiet time at the Bobbsey house, as there always is when visitors go. There seems to be a sort of loneliness, when company leaves, no matter how many there are in the family, nor what fun there is. But the feeling soon passes.
"Well, we'll soon be at school again," said Bert, a day or so before the opening of the Winter term. "I wish we'd get some snow. Then it would be more fun."
"Yes," said Freddie. "We could build snow forts and have snowball fights. I wish it would snow hard."
"So do I, so we could ride down hill," said Nan. "Is your big bob nearly done, Bert?"
"No, Charley and I have quite a lot of things to do on it yet, but we're going to work every night after school now, and it will soon be finished."
"I'm going to have skates for Christmas," announced Freddie. "I hope the lake will be frozen over by then."
"I guess it will be," returned Bert. "It's getting colder every night."
The Bobbseys were back at school. For a time Nan and Bert, who were in a higher grade, did not like it so well, as they had a strange teacher, and lessons, too, were more difficult. But they were not children who gave up easily, and soon they were at the head of their class as usual. Their teacher, too, was much nicer than they had thought at first. They had considered her stern, but it was only her way, and soon wore off.
As for Freddie and Flossie, they had advanced but little except in reading, and this opened a new world to them.
"We'll soon be reading books," boasted Freddie, on his way home one day.
"And I'm going to read all about firemen, soldiers and Indians."
"Oh, I'm not," said Flossie. "I'm going to read how to be a nurse, so I can take care of you when you're hurt."
"That will be nice," said Freddie.
One day, at recess, Bert saw Jim Osborne motioning to him in a secret sort of fashion.
"Come on with us," said Jim, who was a new boy in school. "Danny Rugg and some of the rest of us are going to have some sport."
"What doing?" asked Bert.
"Smoking cigarettes back of the coal house. I've got a whole pack."
"No; I don't smoke," said Bert quietly.
"Bah! You're afraid!" sneered Jim.
"Cigarettes can't hurt you. It's only cigars and pipes that do."
"Yes, I admit I am afraid," said Bert. "I'm afraid of getting sick. Besides, I promised my mother I wouldn't smoke until I was twenty-one, and I'm not going to tell a story. Anyhow, I've got an uncle who smokes, and he says cigarettes are worse than a pipe or cigars, and he ought to know."
"Aw, come on!" urged Jim.
"No," said Bert firmly, and he would not go. Jim went off with Danny and some of the other boys, and they were laughing among themselves. Bert felt that they were laughing at him, but he did not mind.
There was to be an examination of the school by some of the members of the Board of Education late that afternoon, and, directly after recess, Mr. Tetlow went to each room to tell the pupils and teachers to get ready for it, and to put certain work on the blackboards, so it could be seen.
When the principal got to the room where Danny Rugg and his particular chums sat, Mr Tetlow, sniffing the air suspiciously, said:
"I smell smoke!"
"I have been noticing it, too," said the lady teacher. "Perhaps the furnace does not work properly."
"It isn't that kind of smoke," went on Mr. Tetlow. "It is tobacco smoke. Have any of you boys been smoking during recess?" he asked sternly, looking across the room.
No one answered. Danny, Jim, and some of the others seemed to be studying their geography lessons very hard.
"I just want to say a word about cigarette smoking," went on Mr. Tetlow, "for that is usually how a boy begins. Of smoking in general, when a boy gets to be a man, I have nothing to say. Some say it is injurious, and others not, in moderation. But there can be no doubt that for a growing boy to smoke is very harmful. Again I ask if anyone here has been smoking?"
No one replied. The guilty boys bent deep over their books and did not look up.
"Well, I am sure someone here has," said Mr. Tetlow. "I can smell it plainly." He walked down the aisles, looking sharply from one boy to another. If he was sure who were the guilty ones he gave no sign. "And I want to add," said Mr. Tetlow, "that not only is cigarette smoking harmful to the smoker, but it is dangerous. Many fires have been caused in that way. If I find out who of my pupils have been smoking around the school they will be severely punished."
THERE was considerable talk among the boys in Danny's room after Mr. Tetlow departed. And it was noticed that Danny and some of his particular friends looked around with rather frightened faces, over their shoulders, as they talked among themselves. What they said could not be heard, for they spoke in whispers.
"I hope you weren't one of those boys, Bert," said Nan, as she passed her brother on the way home from school that afternoon. "If you were—"
"You needn't worry," he said, with a smile. "I'm not ready to smoke yet."
"Nor ever, I hope," said Nan, as she turned up her little nose. "It—it smells so."
Nothing more was heard of the smoking matter for several days, and it was about forgotten, when something else came to claim the attention of the Bobbsey twins and their friends.
It was toward the close of school one afternoon, when all the pupils were wishing the hands of the clock would point to letting-out time, that Nan, looking from the window, and away from her arithmetic book, saw a few white flakes of snow sifting lazily down. At once she was all attention, and her lesson was forgotten.
"Oh!" she thought, "it's snowing! And it looks as if it would be a big storm. Oh, I'm so glad!"
Nan did not know all the trouble and misery a big snow storm can cause, so she may be forgiven for wishing for one. She only saw the side of it that meant fun for her and her friends.
The flakes were coming down faster now, and there was about them something which seemed to tell that this storm would be more than a mere flurry or squall, and that it would keep up for some time, making big drifts.
But now a number of other pupils in the room had noticed the storm, and eyes were out of doors rather than on books. The teacher saw that she was not getting the attention of her class, and she understood the reason.
"Now, boys and girls," she said gently, "you can have a good time in the snow after you get out of here. So please give attention to your lessons for a few minutes more. Then you will be finished. Nan Bobbsey, you may go to the board and do the third example."
But Nan was thinking so much of the fun she might have riding down hill, or snowballing with her friends, that she got the example wrong, and had to go to her seat. Nor was Bert any more successful.
Bert was busy thinking about putting a bell and a steering wheel on the new bob he and Charley had made, and when he was asked how many times two and a half went into ten he answered: "Three." He was thinking how many times he would ring the bell on the bob when he came to a street crossing.
When the Bobbsey twins, little and big, came out of school the snow was coming down more thickly. The flakes were not so large, but there were more of them, and they blew here and there in the wind, drifting into piles that would make the shoveling off of walks hard the next day.
There were just about enough of the white crystals on the ground, when the school children came out to make a few snowballs, and this they at once proceeded to do.
Danny Rugg, who had not forgiven Bert for the many times the Bobbsey lad had gotten the best of him, threw a ball at Freddie. But Bert was on the watch, and managed to jump up and catch the white missile in his hand. Then he threw it at Danny, striking him on the neck.
"Here! Where you throwin'?" demanded Danny, in angry tones.
"The same place you are," replied Bert, not a bit afraid. "Good weather for ice cream, Danny," he added, and Danny went off in an angry fashion.
Other boys and girls too, threw the snowballs, but it was in goodnatured fun, and no one was hurt. Some rough boys did use hard snowballs, but they were soon left to play among themselves, while the others amused themselves with soft and fluffy missiles, which, breaking as they hit, scattered the white stuff all over, harming no one.
The girls, while they played at this sport, also indulged in washing the faces of each other. With handsful of snow they rubbed the ears and cheeks of their chums so that there came a healthy glow to the skin.
One or two children, who lived near the school, ran in their yards as soon as the classes were dismissed, and brought out their sleds. But the snow was too thin to pack well and at best the coasting was not good.
"But it soon will be," declared Bert, as he and Charley walked along. "We must finish our bob in a hurry."
"All right. We'll work on it late tonight."
And so the sound of hammer, plane and saw was heard in the old barn, where the sled was being built, until nearly ten o'clock.
"She ought to go very fast!" exclaimed Charley, as they paused to look at their sled.
"I'm sure she will," agreed Bert. "And we'll put some carpet on the top of the main board, for a cushion for some of the girls." His chum agreed that this would be a good plan, and so the bob was made very attractive for the girls.
Bert and Charley took the big sled out for a private trial on a little hill behind the barn without telling anyone about it. They slid down very swiftly, and as they were walking up again Bert said:
"I think we have a fast one all right, Charley."
"I'm sure we have," was the answer.
"It will pass anything on the main hill," went on Bert, and his friend believed him.
The storm kept up all night, and in the morning there was snow enough to suit anyone. Bert laughed as he looked out of the window and saw it.
"There'll be coasting now all right!" he cried, as he saw the big stretch of white over the fields and on the hills. "We can have bob sled races, too."
"Can't we come?" asked Flossie.
"We like sled rides," added Freddie.
"You may come part of the time," answered Bert. "But big sleds aren't for little folks like you."
Not far from the Bobbsey home was a long hill that was most excellent for coasting. It was on this that Charley and Bert had decided to test their new sled on a long stretch.
As they hauled it from the barn where it had been made, and started to pull it to the hill, there were many laughs at the odd homemade affair. For Bert and Charley had done most of the work themselves, and it was rather rough.
"She'll never coast!" cried one boy, with a laugh. He was quite a friend of Danny's.
"Here comes the sled that can, though!" cried another, and Danny himself came into view, pulling a fine, new, big bob after him.
"That's the fastest one on the hill," boasted another lad who was helping Danny pull his sled.
"Well, I think ours is fast, too," said Bert calmly.
"Do you want to race?" asked Danny with a sharp glance at Bert.
"I don't mind," was the answer. It was after school, following the first snow, and the hill was just right for coasting.
"Come on! Come on!" cried a number of boys and girls, as they heard what went on between Danny and Bert. "There's going to be a race on the big hill between the big bobs."
There was much excitement. The sleds were the two largest owned by anyone in the neighborhood, and both were fine ones. Danny had bought his, but Bert and Charley had made theirs, and so, though it was not so fancy, it was stronger. Most eyes were on Danny's sled, for it was painted in bright colors, and brightly varnished. It had a red cushion of carpet on the top, and places at the side to rest one's feet.
The bob of Bert and Charley was built just the same, but it was painted in homemade fashion, and the carpet seat was an old and faded one. But it had a new gong and a fine big steering wheel.
"All ready for the race," cried Danny, as he got his sled in position. "Who's going down with me?"
A number of boys came forward.
"Who's going with Bert and me?" asked Charley, and several others stepped forward.
"Go ahead, if you want to come in last!" sneered Danny, as he got his sled in place. "I'll tell 'em you're coming, Bert."
"All right," was the cool answer. "Get in, boys!"
Soon both sleds were filled, and all was ready for the big race—the first of the season.
"ARE you all ready?" called Danny to Bert, looking over at the homemade bob, and there was something like contempt in his tone.
"All ready," answered Bert. "I'll start as soon as you give the word."
"We ought to have someone to shove us off," suggested Danny. "It won't be fair if one or the other gets a headstart."
"Hi! He's afraid already!" cried Charley Mason. "He knows we're going to beat!"
"I am not!" retorted Danny. "It will be a walkover for me once I start. But I don't want Bert Bobbsey saying I took advantage of him, after the race is over."
"You needn't be afraid—I won't say so—I won't have to," replied Bert. "All the same I think it would be better if we each had a push. I want to be fair, too."
"Hey, Bert!" called a shrill voice, as the elder Bobbsey lad was looking about for some on the hill to whom he might appeal. "Can't I ride down with you, Bert?"
It was Freddie who called, and he came running up, anxious to take part in the exciting race.
"No, Freddie, not this time," explained Bert kindly. "I want only large boys with me in the race. I'll give you a ride afterward."
"After I beat him, he means," sneered Danny.
"Come on, let's race if we're going to," called some of the boys on Danny's sled.
"Yes; don't stay here all day."
"Get a move on!"
"We'll beat, anyhow, what's the use of racing?"
There were only a few of things that those on the big new sled of Danny's, called to those on Bert's bob. On their part Bert's friends voiced such remarks as:
"We're not so strong on looks, but we'll get there first!"
"We're going to give Danny a tow to the bottom of the hill!"
"He won't know he's moving, once Bert's sled gets started going!"
"Well, what are we going to do?" asked Danny at last. "Shall we shove off ourselves?"
Just then there came along two large boys, Frank Cobb, and his particular chum, Irving Knight.
"What's going on here; a race?" asked Frank.
"It looks that way," said Irving.
"Oh, will you push us off?" begged Bert, appealing to Frank, whose father worked in Mr. Bobbsey's lumber yard.
"Sure we will," answered Frank goodnaturedly. "Take the other sled, Irving," he said to his chum, "and we'll give 'em an even start. Then we'll see which beats, and may the best sled win!"
"That's what I say!" cried Irving.
The two larger boys took their places behind the bobs. They slowly shoved them to the edge of the hill, held them there a moment, and, at a nod to each other, shoved them down evenly.
"Hurray!" cried the crowd of other coasters. "There they go!"
"And Danny's ahead!" said some of his friends.
"No, Bert's sled is!" shouted his admirers.
As a matter of fact, though, both sleds were even at the start. On and on they went very swiftly, for the hill had been worn smooth. Then Bert saw his bob getting ahead a little, and he felt that he was going to win easily.
But he was glad too soon, for, a little later, Danny's sled shot ahead, and for some distance was in the lead.
"Can't you beat him, Bert?" whispered Charley Mason, who sat just behind his chum.
"I hope so," was the answer. "But I can't really do anything. We just have to depend on the sled, you know."
"Steer a little more over to the left," suggested another boy. "It looks smoother there."
"I will," said Bert, and he turned the steering wheel of his bob while Luke Morton, in the rear, pulled hard on the bell, making it clang out a loud warning.
"Look out where you're going, Bert Bobbsey!" warned Danny, looking back.
"You're coming over on my side of the hill!"
"No I'm not. I'm away from the middle even," said Bert. "Besides, I'm behind you."
"I know you are, and you're going to stay there; but I don't want you to run into me."
Bert thought of the time, the winter before, when Danny had run into him, and broken his sled, but he said nothing. He did not want that kind of an accident to be repeated if he could help it.
On, on and on dashed the big bobs, with the crowd on the hill, and a number of coasters scattered along the way, watching anxiously. As soon as Bert had steered over to the left his sled began to go faster, as the snow was packed better there. He was fast catching up to Danny, when one of the boys on that bob, looking back, saw it, and warned the steersman.
"He's coming, Danny," he cried.
"Oh, he is; eh? Well, he won't pass me," and Danny steered his sled over directly in front of Bert's, almost causing Bert to collide with him.
"Shame!" cried some watchers. "That wasn't fair!"
"Let him keep on his own side then," warned Danny.
But this mean trick did Danny little good for, though Bert was forced to go to the right, to avoid crashing into Danny, he, most unexpectedly, found good coasting there, and he shot ahead until his sled was even with that of the bully's.
"Better look out, Danny," warned the boy sitting directly back of him.
"He's crowding us fast."
"Oh, it's only a spurt. We'll soon be at the bottom of the hill and win."
On and on came Bert's bob, the Flier. It was a little ahead of Danny's now, and the latter, seeing this, steered over, thinking the going was better there.
"Look out!" warned Bert. "Who's crowding over now?"
"Well, I've got a right here!" snarled Danny.
But Bert knew his rights also, and would not give away. He held to his place, and Danny dared not come too close. Then, as Bert found himself on smooth, hardpacked snow, he steered as straight as he could. More and more ahead of Danny he went, until he was fully in front of him.
"We're going to win! We're going to win!" cried Bert's friends. "We're going to win the race!"
Danny was wild with anger. He steered his sled over sharply, hoping to get on the same track as was Bert and so pass him. But it was not to be. Danny took too sudden a turn, and the next instant his bob overturned, spilling everyone off.
There was a cry of surprise at the accident, and some of those on Bert's sled looked back. Bert himself looked straight ahead as a steersman always should.
"Danny's upset!" cried Charley.
"I'm sorry!" said Bert. "Now he'll claim the race wasn't fair."
And that is what Danny did when he picked himself up, and walked down to meet Bert, whose bob got safely to the foot of the hill, and so won the race.
"Aw, I'd have beaten if you hadn't gotten in my way so I had to steer over," cried Danny.
"Don't talk that way now," said Irving, who, with Frank Cobb had come to the end of the hill. "Bert beat you fair and square."
"Aw, well," grumbled Danny.
"I'll race over again, if you like," offered Bert.
"Yes, and do the same thing," grumbled Danny. "I will not. I know my sled is the best."
But few others, save those who hoped for a ride on it, agreed with the bully, and Bert's homemade bob was held to be champion of the hill.
Then came many more coasts, Bert giving Nan and Flossie and Freddie, and a number of their little girl and boy friends, several rides.
Until late that evening the coasting kept up, and Bert and Charley were congratulated on all sides for the fine bob they had made. And what fun Bert had home after supper, telling of how he had won the race!
It was in the middle of the night, when the Bobbsey household was awakened by the ringing of fire bells. They all heard the alarm, and as Papa Bobbsey counted the number, he said to his wife:
"That must be near here. Guess I'll look. It's a windy night and a fire in my lumber yard would be very bad."
As he went to the window he saw a glare on the sky in the direction of the lake.
"It is near here!" he said. "The engines are going past our house! I'd better take a look."
"Can I come?" asked the little "Fat Fireman" from his cot. "Take me, papa!"
MR. BOBBSEY laughed, though he was worried about the fire. It seemed so odd for Freddie to want to go out in the cold, dark night.
"Not this time, my Fat Fireman!" said Freddie's papa. "It may be only a pile of rubbish on fire. I'll tell you about it when I come back."
"Where does it seem to be?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
"Down near the lake," answered her husband. "I'm afraid, he added in a lower voice, that it may be our boathouse. It seems to be about there."
"Oh, I hope not!" she exclaimed. "Still, better that than our own house."
"If it's near the lake, papa," said Flossie who heard part of what her father said, "it will be easy to put it out, for there is plenty of water."
"Pooh! engines have their own water!" exclaimed Freddie, who had rather hazy notions as to how fire engines work. He was getting over his disappointment about not being allowed to go with his father, and had again cuddled down in his warm crib.
Another engine dashed by the Bobbsey house, and the ringing of the alarm bell increased. The voices and footsteps of many persons, as they rushed on to the blaze, could also be heard, and there resounded the cry of:
"Fire! Fire! Fire!"
Bert, who had been aroused with the others of the household, was dressing in his room. He felt that his father would let him go to the fire. At any rate he intended to be all ready when he made his request, so as not to cause delay.
"Are you going, Bert?" asked Nan, as from her room, next to that of her brother, she heard him moving around.
"I am, if father will take me," he said.
"It's too cold for me!" Nan exclaimed with a shiver, as she went back in bed again. She had gotten up to peer from the window at the red glare in the sky.
From the third floor, where Dinah slept, the colored cook now called down:
"Am anybody sick, Mrs. Bobbsey? What am de mattah down dere?"
"It's a fire, Dinah!" answered her mistress.
"Oh good land a'massy! Don't tell me dat!" she cried. "Sam! Sam! Wake up. De house is on fire an' you'se got t' sabe me!"
"No, no, Dinah!" cried Mrs. Bobbsey, to calm the cook. "It isn't this house. It's down by the lake. If you look out of your window you can see it."
Dinah hurried across to her window, and evidently saw the reflection of the blaze, for she exclaimed:
"Thank goodness it ain't yeah! Mah goodness, but I suah was skarit fo' a minute!"
By this time Mr. Bobbsey had dressed, and had started downstairs. Bert came out of his room, also ready for the street.
"May I come, father?" he asked.
"Well, I declare!" exclaimed Mr. Bobbsey, in surprise. "So you got dressed too, did you?"
"Yes, sir. May I come?"
Mr. Bobbsey hesitated a moment, and then, with a smile, said:
"Well, I suppose so, since you are all ready. I'm taking Bert," he called to his wife. "Freddie, you'll have to be the Fat Fireman while I'm gone, and look after the house."
"That's what I will," said Freddie, "and if any sparks fly over here I'll throw the bath room sponge on 'em!"
"Good!" cried Mr. Bobbsey, and then, he and Bert hurried out.
The fire was now larger, as they could see when they got out in the street. There was no wind and the flames went straight up in the air. There were not many buildings down by the lake, only some boat shelters and places like that. The Bobbsey's boathouse was a fine large one, having recently been made bigger as Mr. Bobbsey was thinking of buying a new motor boat.
Mr. Bobbsey and his son hurried on, following the crowd that filled the street leading to the lake. Several gentlemen knew the lumber merchant, and called to him.
"I guess you're glad this isn't your lumber yard," said one.
"Yes, indeed," was the answer. "I had a little fire there once, and I don't want another. But I'm afraid this is some of my property just the same."
"Is that so?"
"Yes, it looks to be my boathouse."
"So it does!" cried another man.
"Oh, father!" cried Bert. "Our nice boathouse!"
"Well, the firemen may save it," said Mr. Bobbsey. "We will hope so, anyhow," he added.
They had not gone on much farther before Mr. Bobbsey and Bert could see that it was indeed their boathouse on fire. One side was all ablaze, and the flames were slowly, but surely, eating their way over the whole place. But two engines were now pumping streams of water on the fire, and they might put it out before too much damage was done.
Mr. Bobbsey rushed forward, and, as the policemen and firemen knew him, they let him get close to the boathouse.
"You stay here, Bert," said Mr. Bobbsey to his son.
"Where are you going?" Bert wanted to know.
"I'm going to see if we can save any of the boats."
There was a sailing craft, a number of rowboats, and a small gasoline launch in the boathouse. They had been stored away for the winter.
"Come on, men!" cried Mr. Bobbsey, as he saw some of his workmen in the crowd. "Help me save the boats!"
All rushed forward willingly, and, as there was part of the place where the flames had not yet reached, they could make their way into the house. They began lowering the boats into the icy water, while the firemen played the several lines of hose on the flames.
The third engine was now working, and so much water was pumped that even a larger fire could not have stood it for very long. The blaze began to die down, and when Mr. Bobbsey and his men were about to lower the gasoline launch into the icy water the chief ran up, saying:
"You don't need to do that! We've got the fire under control now. It will soon be out."
"Are you sure?" asked the lumber merchant.
"Yes. You can see for yourself. Leave the boat there. It will be all right."
Mr. Bobbsey looked, and was satisfied that the larger part of the boathouse would be saved. So he and his men stopped their work; and went outside to cool off.
A little later the fire was practically out, but one engine continued to throw water on the smouldering sparks. The crowd began to leave now, for there was nothing more to see, and it was cold.
"My!" exclaimed Bert as his father came back to where he had left his son, "it didn't take long to settle that fire."
"No, we have a good fire department," replied Mr. Bobbsey.
The fire chief came up to Mr Bobbsey, who expressed his thanks for the quick work of the firemen.
"Have you any idea what started the fire, Mr. Bobbsey?" asked the chief. "Was the boathouse in use?"
"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?"
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 man, and perhaps he won't want to then."
"Good!" exclaimed the chief heartily; "That's what I like to hear. But it's as certain as guns is, and nothing more certain than them, that some one was smoking in your boathouse, and set fire to it. And I wish we could find out who it was."
"So do I!" exclaimed Mr. Bobbsey. "If only to teach them a lesson on how dangerous it is to be careless. Well, I suppose we can't do anything more," and he sighed, for half the beautiful boathouse was in ruins.
Mr. Bobbsey and Bert were soon at home, telling the news to the folks.
Freddie's eyes opened wide in surprise as he listened to the account of how the firemen had put out the fire.
"Oh, I wish I could have been there!" he cried. "I could have helped."
"What caused the fire?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey of her husband, when the children had gone to bed again.
"Some boys—or some one else smoking cigarettes, the chief thinks. We found a half-emptied box."
In her room Nan heard the word "cigarettes" and she wondered if her brother could be at fault, for she remembered he had told her how once some boys had asked him to go off in secret and smoke.
Mr. Bobbsey was up early, for he wanted to see by daylight what damage the fire had done, and he also wanted to see the insurance company about the loss. The beautiful boathouse looked worse in the daylight than it had at night, and the neat living room, where some of the Bobbseys had spent many happy hours, while others of them were out in the boats, was in ruins.
The fire chief came down while Mr. Bobbsey was there, and they talked matters over. The chief said he would send one of his men around to the different stores that sold cigarettes, to try and learn if boys had purchased any that afternoon, for it was against the law to sell cigarettes to anyone under sixteen years of age.
One afternoon Danny's father, Mr. Rugg, came home unexpectedly, and, wanting something that was out in his barn went to get it. As he entered the place he heard a scramble of feet, some excited whispers, and then silence. He was sure that some one was in the place and had run to hide.
"Who's there?" called Mr. Rugg sharply. There was no answer, but he listened and was sure he heard some one in the little room where the harness was kept.
He walked over to the door, and tried to open it. Some one on the inside was holding it, but Mr. Rugg gave a strong pull, and the door flew open. To the surprise of Mr. Rugg he saw his son Danny, and a number of boys, hiding there, and the smell of cigarette smoke was very strong.
"Danny!" exclaimed his father sternly, "what does this mean?"
"We—were—playing!" stammered Danny. "Playing hide and seek."
"And to play that is it necessary to smoke?" Mr. Rugg asked sharply.
"We—we aren't smoking," answered Danny.
"Not now, but you have been. I can smell it plainly. Go into the house, Danny, and these other boys must go home. If I find them smoking in my barn again I shall punish them. You might have set it on fire."
Danny had nothing to say, indeed, there was little he could say. He had been caught in the act.
The other boys slunk off, and Danny went into the house, his father following.
"Danny, I am very sorry to learn this," said Mr. Rugg. "I did not know that you smoked—a boy of your age!"
"Well, I never smoked much. Lots of the fellows smoke more than I do."
"That is no excuse. It is a bad habit for a boy. You may go to your room. I will consider your case later."
From then on Mr. Rugg did some hard thinking. He began "putting two and two together" as the old saying has it. He remembered the Bobbsey boathouse fire. On that occasion Danny had come in late, and there had been the smell of smoke on his clothes.
Mr. Rugg went to his son's room. A search showed a number of empty cigarette boxes, and cigarette pictures, and the boxes were all of the same kind—the kind that had been found in the halfburned boathouse.
Danny was accused by his father of having been smoking in the boathouse just before the fire, and Danny was so miserable, and so surprised at being caught in the barn, that he made a full confession. Tearfully he told the story, how he and some other boys, finding the boat house unlocked, for some unknown reason, had gone in, and smoked to their heart's content.
They did not mean to cause the fire, and had no idea that they were to blame. One of the boys was made ill by too much smoking, and they all hurried away.
But they must have left a smouldering stump of cigarette in some corner, or a carelessly thrown match, that started the blaze. Then, when the fire bells sounded, and they learned what had happened, Danny and all the boys promised each other that they would keep the secret.
"Well, Danny, I can't tell you how sorry I am," said Mr. Rugg, when the confession was over. "Sorry not only that Mr. Bobbsey's boathouse was burned, but because you have deceived me, and your good mother, and smoked in secret. I feel very badly about it."
Danny did, too, for though he was not a very good boy, his heart was in the right place, and with a little more care he might have been a different character. There was, however, hope for him.
"You must be punished for this," went on Mr. Rugg, "and this punishment will be that you are not to have the motor boat I promised you for next Summer. Perhaps it will be a lesson to you."
Danny wept bitterly, for he had counted very much on having this boat. But it was a good lesson to him. Mr. Rugg also told the fathers of the other boys whom he caught with his son, and these boys were punished in different ways.
Mr. Rugg also informed Mr. Bobbsey how the boathouse had been set afire, and expressed his sorrow. And so the mystery was cleared up.