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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 a man, and perhaps he won't want to then."

"Good!" exclaimed the chief heartily.