"Fancy a pony!" cried Elsie. "D'you think he really will give us one?"
"He said he'd consider it," answered Guy; "but I expect that means 'yes.' Hurrah! I tell you what I shall do. I shall go hunting."
The speaker gave vent to his delight by hopping about on one leg; then, coming in contact with the grindstone, he put his foot on the treadle, and began to work it as fast as he could.
"The water's all dried up," he said at length, when the stone stopped. Without thinking what he was doing, he put his hand into the trough, and began poking his fingers into the sediment which had collected at the bottom. In the soft mud was something hard, and he picked it out. The boy glanced carelessly at the bit of metal, and was about to throw it away when its shape struck him as familiar.
"Hullo!" he exclaimed. "Look what I've found!"
"What is it?" asked Ida.
"Can't you see?" was the answer. "Why, it's the little knob from the handle of that poultry-carver!"
"Then that proves Brian and I were right!" cried Elsie excitedly. "It was the carver that was being ground when I heard the stone turning that night. Mother said the knob was loose, and it must have fallen off into the water."
"Get away!" answered Guy obstinately. "It might have fallen off the knife some time when William Cole had it out here to clean, and dropped into the trough by accident. You won't get me to believe that yarn of yours, Elsie."
Elsie was about to reply, when her sister cut short the dispute by exclaiming, "Here's father!"