“Why are you sorry for me?” demanded Conrad, sharply.

“Because your boat is ruined.  It is all hacked up, and has been set on fire.”

“My boat!  You mean Andy Grant’s?”

“No, I don’t.  Come and see for yourself.”

CHAPTER XI.

Conrad’s disappointment.

With his mind in a whirl, and still believing that it was Andy’s boat which had been injured instead of his own, Conrad pushed on rapidly toward the pond.  Yet he had an instinctive fear that his informant might be correct.

When he reached the point where his boat had been moored, he used his eyes eagerly.

It was all true!  His boat—­his beautiful boat—­with which he had been perfectly satisfied till Andy received a better, was scorched and hacked up till it was clear he could never use it again, and Andy’s boat was not visible anywhere.  Tears of rage filled Conrad’s eyes.

“It is a terrible mistake!” he ejaculated.

“Mistake!  What do you mean?” asked John Larkin.

Conrad reflected that his words were betraying him.

“I don’t know what I am saying,” he replied, vaguely.  “Yes, I do.  I believe Andy Grant did this.”

“Andy Grant!” repeated Jimmy Morris.  “Why should he injure your boat?”

“Because he hates me.”

“Andy isn’t that kind of a boy.  Besides, he has a newer and much handsomer boat himself.”

There it was!  That was what stung Conrad.  His boat was second to Andy’s.

As the three boys stood on the bank, a small boy, named Peter Hill, came up.  He lived in the house nearest the boats.

“Did you see any one near the boat, Peter?” asked John Larkin.

“Yes, I seed a big tramp in de boat.  He set it on fire.”

“That explains it, Conrad!” exclaimed Jimmy Morris.  “I saw the tramp myself in the village.”

“Pooh!” said Conrad.  “I don’t believe it.”

“But I seed him burnin’ de boat!” persisted little Peter.

“Then why didn’t you tell somebody?”

“All de folks was away and I didn’t dare to go near it.  He had a hatchet, too.”

“I say, Conrad, let us hunt for the tramp, and, if we find him, have him arrested.”

For obvious reasons this proposal of John Larkin did not meet Conrad’s approval.  He was afraid of what the tramp would tell.

“I’ll ask my father what to do,” he replied, evasively.  “The mischief is done and there is no help for it.”

Conrad was already looking more cheerful.  An idea had come to him.

Now that the boat was destroyed, his father might be willing to buy him another, and, if so, he might be persuaded to buy one as good as Andy’s, perhaps better.  He turned to go home, and let the boys know that he did not care for company.

On the way, not far from his own house, he encountered the tramp.  At the sight of this man, whose stupid blunder had cost him his boat, his eyes blazed with anger.