"Diamonds!" Polly said. "Where did you get that?"
"I found it," explained Margy. "You know when I sit on a sofa or in a stuffed chair, I run my fingers down along the edges of the seat. I don't even know when I do it—I just do, that's all. And that's what I did in that car on the merry-go-round. And I felt something hard and pulled out this."
As soon as Margy showed the ring to her mother, Mrs. Williamson declared that some one must have lost it.
"We'll hunt up the man in charge of the merry-go-round and he will know if any inquiries have been made," she said.
"You don't want a parade following you," Mrs. Larue declared; "so the rest of us will wait here for you."
"Let Polly and Jess come," begged Margy. But Mrs. Marley said that was too many; so Mrs. Williamson and Margy went in search of the man who was in charge of the merry-go-round.
They found him—after some questioning—in a queer little cubbyhole so surrounded by odds and ends of lumber and tent rigging and paint pots that Margy wondered how he ever got in or out of his tiny office without breaking his neck.
Mrs. Williamson explained that her little girl had found a ring in one of the cars on the merry-go-round. She had hardly explained, before the manager was greatly excited.
"You don't say!" he cried in a hoarse voice. "So that's where it was! A lady lost it last night and she's offered a reward of a hundred dollars. Has the ring got two diamonds, ma'am? Yes, that's it. Then your little girl gets the money."
"Oh, she doesn't want any money for finding the ring," Mrs. Williamson said quickly. "She's only too glad to return it to the owner. No, we won't leave any name or address. That isn't necessary either."