"Yes," said Mabel, who was blinking hard to keep the tears back, "that's the hardest part of it, it was cut off in its p-prime—Oh, dear, I guess I'm g-going to cry."
"What could have done it?" asked Bettie, who was not far from following Mabel's example. "Has anyone stepped on it?"
"Perhaps a potato bug ate it off," suggested Jean.
"A two-legged potato bug, I guess," said Marjory, who had been examining the ground carefully. "See, here are small sharp heel prints close to the root."
"Whose handkerchief is this?" asked Mabel, picking up a small tightly crumpled ball and unrolling it gingerly. "There's a name on it but my eyes are so teary I can't make it out."
"It looks like Milligan," said Bettie, turning it over, "but we can't tell how long it's been here."
"Horrid as she is," said charitable Jean, "it doesn't seem as if even Laura would do such a mean thing. I can't believe it of her."
"I can," said Mabel. "If she had a squash vine, or a pumpkin vine, I'd go straight over and spoil it this minute."
"No, no," said Jean, "we mustn't be horrid just because other folks are. We won't pay any attention to her—we'll just be patient."
The girls found four small, green, egglike objects growing on the withered vine; they cut them off and these, too, were laid tenderly away in their treasure boxes.