The smaller girls were by this time anxious to run about again. They were much interested in “Mr. Methuselah,” as Neale had dubbed the big turtle on which had been engraved by somebody the name of the discoverer of America and the correct date of that discovery.
“But it makes him awfully old,” Tess said gravely. “How old does it make the turtle, Ruth?”
“Well,” said the older sister, “if we are to believe that Christopher Columbus carved his name and the date on that turtle when he first came to these islands, it must have been more than four and a quarter centuries ago.”
“O-oo!” gasped Dot. “That’s awful old, isn’t it?”
“And the turtle must have been pretty big when the carving was done,” laughed Ruth. “It takes a couple of hundred years for them to gain full size, I believe.”
“What a joke!” ejaculated Agnes. “Then this turtle would be at least six hundred years old right now.”
“It would seem so,” agreed Ruth.
“I guess he must be,” said Tess gravely. “He looks that old. He is the oldest looking thing I ever saw.”
Just then Neale gave a shout, and called to them. The four Corner House girls responded by hurrying to the spot where Neale had come out of the shrubs.
“Here’s another!” he cried.