quarters here," said Dick. "It would be just like them to single out a spot like this."
"Yes, provided they weren't afraid of ghosts," came from Stanley.
"Tramps aren't usually afraid of anything but work," answered Tom dryly. "But this is queer, isn't it?" he added, as he picked up an empty cigar box. "Somebody must smoke good cigars—these were imported."
"Here is an empty liquor flask," said Stanley.
"And here are some empty wine bottles," added Sam.
"And here are some decks of playing-cards," put in Dick. "Yes, some persons have certainly used this as a hangout."
"What is this in the fireplace?" asked Tom as he pointed to something smoking there.
"It certainly has a vile smell!" exclaimed Stanley, making a wry face.
"That shows somebody has been here recently," was Dick's comment. "We had better be on guard if they are tramps."
"I can't stand that smell," said Tom. "I am going to get out."
The stuff in the fireplace, whatever it was, now burned up more brightly. It gave off a peculiar vapor that made the boys dizzy.
Tom turned to a door that led to the kitchen
