He pushed her gently, and while Ruth and Helen held aside the mass of vines the boy crawled in and reached the bundle of rags. He carefully hauled it all forth and the japanned box tumbled out of its loose wrappings.
"There it is!" grunted Tom, getting up and wiping his hands on a tuft of grass. "What do you make of it?"
Ruth had the box in her hands. Helen, looking over her shoulder, pointed to two faded letters painted on the cover of the box.
"That belongs to Jasper Parloe. His initials are on the box," she said.
"'J. P.'—that's right, I guess," muttered Tom.
It could not be gainsaid that Parloe's initials were there. Ruth stared at them for some moments in silence.
"Better put it back. I don't know what he can possibly have to hide in this way," Tom said. "But we wouldn't want to get into trouble with him. He's a mean customer."
"It isn't his box!" said Ruth, quietly.
"Why isn't it?" cried Helen, in amazement.
"I never noticed the letters on the box before. The box has been cleaned since I saw it—"