“Did you have any mark on the dipper?”
“Yes; a shield on the bottom, though—though—‘twas not a very good one.”
No, to that day it remained uncertain what the device really was, and its character had been hotly discussed in the club.
Charlie had discovered the theft on his return from school at noon. Swallowing a potato and a few mouthfuls of steak, he then rushed from the house to report the loss to the club. In a short time all the white shields had heard the news, and quickly gathered.
“Well, boys, what is to be done?” asked the president.
Nobody knew.
“Let’s climb the ladder and all take a look,” suggested the secretary.
Exceedingly nimble were the legs that went wriggling up the ladder, and very curious eyes were directed toward the depths of the “cupelo,” but the only result was a succession of “My!” and “That’s so!” and “Too bad!”
“I’ve got it!” shouted Sid.
“He’th found it,” said Pip.