The others had laughed at the prize, asking her if she intended to keep it as a souvenir.
"Certainly," said Mrs. Paxton. "I'm sure this brass button must have belonged on some old coat that the hermit wore!"
"Perhaps in his youth, before he came up here to live, he may have been a janitor," said a young man, with a saucy laugh.
"Or a brakeman," suggested another.
Mrs. Paxton pretended not to hear their teasing, and though the prize that she had found had been only a valueless thing, she kept it.
Floretta was very eager to stay, and continue to peep into cracks in the floor and walls, and to poke with a stick under the doorsill, and in the soft earth around the hut.
The older members of the party knew that if they were to ascend the mountain, see the view, and descend before twilight, they must start at once.
As soon as their picnic lunch had been enjoyed they commenced to climb the rugged mountain path.
It was very steep and rough, and it had been said that no children should be allowed in the party.
Mrs. Paxton had insisted that her small daughter was a wonderful little climber, who was quite equal to the demands of a long tramp.