When Charley had carefully scraped and blown out all the ashes possible, he lay flat on his belly and examined the place minutely.  Some person or persons had dug a little square chamber, like a sunken box, right in the shoulder of the mound.  Charley decided that a candle had been placed in the centre of the box-like excavation, leaves packed loosely about the base of the candle, some fine, dry twigs stacked across the edges of the excavation, and across the top of the hole other dry twigs had been placed.  Then the candle had been lighted, the open side of the excavation closed with twigs thrust vertically into the clay, and leaves heaped over and about the excavation.

As Charley examined the mound, he could not but admire the devilish cunning exhibited in the construction of this fire box.  The open space about the mound would give full sweep to the morning breeze, and the box was located in the windward shoulder of the little mound, exactly where the breeze would hit it hardest.  The piles of leaves heaped about the box would spread the flames on all sides.

The candle grease in the bottom of the excavation, Charley had no doubt, was the remains of one of his own candles, taken with the food supplies from his cupboard.  Nor did he doubt that the man who had taken it was Lumley.  He must have disappeared in the forest the moment Henry Collins had told him what was afoot, for there could be no doubt Collins had informed him.  After the moon rose, so that he could see well, Lumley must have come to the cabin, stolen food and candles, cautiously removed the aerial and grounded the battery, and gone straight down the valley to set his fires.  If he could not get the money for the timber, or at least some of it, quite evidently Lumley did not intend to allow any one else to have it, not even the state.

In his own mind Charley had no doubt whatever that the incendiary was Lumley, and that he had done exactly the things Charley pictured him as doing.  Even now he must be somewhere in the forest.  But Charley felt relieved when he realized that in all probability Lumley had no firearms.  He must have fled without taking time to equip himself.  Also Charley doubted if he would remain in the forest.  The forester would be certain to scour the woods for him, and Lumley could hardly hope to evade pursuit indefinitely.  He would probably make his way out of the forest at some distant point and try to get away.  Sooner or later, Charley felt sure, the man would be captured and doubtless sent to prison for cheating the state.  It made Charley feel bad to think that he did not have enough direct evidence to insure Lumley’s conviction for arson as well.

An idea came to Charley.  Blowing away the remaining dust and ashes, Charley once more began an examination of the little excavation.  Inch by inch he scrutinized the surface of the pit.  He found it partly baked.  Suddenly he gave a cry.  He had found the distinct prints of some one’s fingers.  On the second side of the excavation he found more prints, and the third side yielded still others.  Carefully Charley chopped out the incriminating bits of clay.  When he laid them side by side and examined them under his microscope, he found they had been made, not by one person, but by three.  Apparently each side of the pit had been fashioned by a different man.