“Hadn’t we better go home and tell your uncle,” suggested Katherine, “and get him to help us find it?”
“No, no!” cried Veronica, shrinking back in alarm. “Don’t tell him! I wouldn’t have him know for worlds that I’ve lost it.”
“But if you don’t find it he’ll know about it, anyway,” said Katherine practically.
Veronica’s face went white again and she returned to the search with desperate haste. “I must find it! I must find it!” she was saying over and over again under her breath.
Katherine was just as diligent in her search. She pawed through the bushes with her white gloves and sank on her knees in the soft grass, accumulating more and more grass stains all the while. The last streak of daylight faded and the big arc lights began to blaze among the tall trees, and still they searched—Katherine in a patient, systematic way, Veronica hysterically. The few people who crossed the square were closely questioned as to whether or not they had found anything, but the same disappointing answer came from all of them. Veronica looked at her watch with ever-increasing anxiety; Katherine looked at her furtively almost as often.
After two hours of nerve-wracking search a steeple clock nearby boomed out nine strokes; slowly, deliberately, its clamor shattered the summer night’s stillness. Veronica sank down on a stone which bordered the walk and covered her face with her hands. Katherine straightened up and stood for a moment looking thoughtfully at Veronica; then she went on searching methodically. Veronica sat huddled on the stone for fully five minutes; then, with an expression which was strangely like relief, she rose up and followed Katherine’s example. Fifteen minutes more went by with scarcely a word from either girl. Then the steeple clock chimed the quarter hour. A moment later came the sound of a train whistle, far off, but borne clearly on the still air, followed by the faint rumble of distant cars going over a culvert.
Katherine stood still until the sound had died away, then she went up to Veronica, led her to an iron bench nearby, and shoved her into it. Then she opened her handbag and took out a small black wallet fastened round with an elastic band, and laid it on Veronica’s knee without a word.
Veronica looked at it and uttered an incredulous scream of joy. “Where did you find it?” she gasped.
“Back on Elm Street, before I met you,” said Katherine quietly.
“Back on Elm Street, before you met me?” repeated Veronica wonderingly. “You had it all this while?” Katherine nodded. “Then why did you keep it all this while?” demanded Veronica. “Why didn’t you give it to me at once and save all this agony?”