"Now, this is a discovery," she continued. "No doubt it was a Celtic chief who was buried here. They would burn his body first, and put his bones in the urn along with a few Roman coins. You can't see the marks on them, can you? Never mind, we'll rub them up when we go home. What an addition to the collection! Sha'n't we crow over the boys, just!"
We filled up the hole in the mound again, and went home elated with pride, feeling that the British Museum itself might justly envy us our possession. The boys were hanging about the gate as though they were waiting for our return, though they certainly could not have known where we had been that afternoon.
"Hullo! What have you got there?" they cried, as Cathy produced her treasure.
"Don't ever dare to chaff me again about antiquities," she announced. "What do you say to this?"
It might have been fancy, but I certainly thought I saw a wink pass between Dick and Edward. Perhaps, however, I was mistaken, since they all seemed duly impressed.
"Looks a real mouldy, crumbly, museum old kind of a performance," said Edward.
"Must be genuine if you dug it up yourself," remarked Dick.
"You'll have to write about it to the newspaper," put in George. "What sport for you to see your name in print!"
"Go and ask Evans for a box of metal-polish," said Cathy. "I must certainly find out what the coins are, they'll fix the date of the mound."
Dick went with a readiness which might have aroused our suspicions, and hung over her shoulder while she rubbed vigorously away at the worn-looking specimens.