"Or Snip," said Bob, with a laugh. "He knows as much as any one, for I expect he saw the person who brought the rabbit. Don't you remember what a row he kicked up?"
"Yes, of course, Bob," said Kitty, dropping her voice to a solemn whisper and speaking hesitatingly. "You don't think that—that it could have been Tim Shuttleworth, do you?"
"Why, no, Kitty. What could have put such an idea into your head? It's not in the least likely. If Tim had wanted to make you a present, he needn't have done it in that way."
"I suppose it's an absurd idea; but—but we hardly knew Tim then—"
"Which makes it all the more unlikely that he would think of giving you a rabbit," Bob interposed decidedly.
"You know I thought it was he who took the covered basket from behind the scullery door," the little girl reminded her brother, after a brief silence, during which they had both been pondering deeply.
"So you did. I had forgotten that for the minute." Bob paused, and after a little further reflection continued gravely, "I tell you what, we won't say a word to Tim about Tom Hatch's not having sent the rabbit; but I'll make a few inquiries and try to find out where Fluffy came from. I dare say I shall get at the truth. Lots of the Grammar School boys keep rabbits, and they'll be sure to know who keeps Angoras."
"I believe Fluffy is pure-bred," observed Kitty complacently. "The butcher's boy said so, and I expect he knows."
"I dare say. Perhaps it was foolish of me to take it for granted that Tom Hatch had kept his word; but when I saw the rabbit I never dreamt of suspecting it came from anyone else. Not a word to Tim, mind."
"Oh, no, and we must tell mother and father not to mention the matter to him! Oh, Bob, if it should have been Tim—"