explosion. Among the men was Jerry Corwin, one of the blasters at the
stone quarry.

"Dynamite did this," said he. "Dynamite and nothing else."

"It certainly sounded like dynamite," said another man.

"How would dynamite get here?" asked Mr. Dodge, who had arrived on the
scene.

At this question Jerry Corwin shrugged his massive shoulders.

"Once in a while some dynamite is missing from our store at the
quarry," he answered. "The laborers steal it, for they can sell it to
farmers for blasting out stumps, and to others. During the past six
months we have lost at least a dozen sticks."

"As the boathouse was not worth much, why was it blown up?" asked
Doctor Reed, who had been summoned by somebody who thought a man had
been hurt.

"That's the question," said Mr. Dodge. "Evidently it contained nothing
of value outside of the outfit belonging to our sons."

"Hum!" murmured the physician, and said no more.

It was a bitter cold night, so after the fire was put out and the
ruins examined, the majority of the crowd went home. The members of
the Gun Club put their outfits in a neighboring barn, where a friend
promised they should be safe, and then, after a short talk, went to