"Come out, idiot," said Fatty. "I didn't say rabbits, I said turps."
Fatty pulled Buster out by his hind legs. Something rolled out behind the little dog. All the children stared at it. It was a cork. Fatty picked it up and smelt it.
"It smells of turps!" he said in excitement, and the others crowded round to smell it. It did. There was no doubt about it at all.
In a trice Fatty was down on his hands and knees, feeling in the hole.
He pulled out a bottle. On it was an old label, half-torn, but the letters "turp" could still be faintly seen. There was still a little turpentine in the bottle, too.
"Here's what were were looking for," said Fatty triumphantly. He showed the bottle to the others. Bets went to the hole and peered in out of curiosity.
"There's something else, Fatty," she cried in excitement, and put in her hand. She pulled out a tin. The others crowded round again to look, feeling very thrilled.
"What is it?" said Larry eagerly. "A tin of paint. Here's a knife. Let me prise off the lid."
He did so — and the children saw that the tin was nearly full of a light-brown paint.
"How queer!" said Fatty. "It's the colour of that blob of paint on the stone we found. Look!"