“What’s the matter?” asked Ben, mounting half-way up the steps leading to the porch. “What is it?”
“Don’t know,” was the whispered reply. “Feels like stone. Heavy as the dickens!”
“Can you lift it?”
“Sure! The two of us have it now.”
“Then bring it along.”
Bearing the burden between them, and slowly feeling their way, the committee of search descended to the sidewalk and halted.
“What is it, anyway?” asked one. “Let’s feel of it,” said another.
So the investigation began, but it resulted in no definite knowledge concerning the character of the prize. Eyes were of course useless, and fingers were of little less avail.
“It feels something like the boy on the rim of our fountain basin,” said Ben after passing his hand carefully over the object from end to end. “But of course it can’t be that. Anyway, now we’ve got it what are we going to do with it?”