“Yes, you’re right, it was an expensive bonnet, Lanky. No poor person could ever afford to buy such a thing for his little girl. It stands for money. Now, the question comes, how did that bonnet ever get into the hands of the little, dark-faced girl in the queen’s wagon; and what did she want you to understand by dropping it before you?”
“Frank, honest to goodness now, don’t you see that it was a regular mute appeal? Here was the only link that poor little thing had, connecting her with the happy past, before she fell into the hands of these rough gypsy rovers. Somehow it must have seemed to her that if she ever could get back again to the ones who used to love her that bonnet was going to do the trick!”
Lanky could hardly contain himself, he was so excited.
“I wonder now if that could be so?” mused Frank, still looking at the delicate little article, made up chiefly of lace and silk, with a faded blue ribbon fastened to it.
He examined it closely as though entertaining a faint hope that he might discover some clue to the past. But in spite of his efforts nothing resulted from his search.
“Well, what do you think, Frank?” demanded the impatient Lanky, after a little time had elapsed, and he considered that his chum must have made up his mind.
“Seems to me there’s only one thing you can do,” came the reply.
“Then tell me,” begged Lanky.
“You’ve got that clipping safe and sound, I hope?” asked Frank.
“Sure I have, and right here in my jeans now,” Lanky replied.