She watched her opportunity and when again Luna drew her plaything from her blouse, Dorothy snatched it from her and sprang to her feet, crying:
“The money is found! The money is found! My lost one hundred dollars!”
Strangely enough Luna neither protested nor noticed her loss. The drowsiness that often came upon her, like a flash, did so now and she sank back against her hay-support, sound asleep.
All crowded about Dorothy, excited, incredulous, delighted, sorely puzzled.
“Could Luna have stolen it, that foolish one?”
“But she wasn’t in the house the night it was lost. Don’t you remember? It was then that Dolly found her out by the pond. It couldn’t have been she!”
“Do you suppose it blew out of the window and she picked it up?”
“It couldn’t. The window wasn’t opened. It stormed, you know.”
Such were the questions and answering speculations that followed Dorothy’s exclamation, as the lads and lassies found this real drama far more absorbing than the composite tale had been.