“And I’ll help look for the ring,” offered his sister.
There were many pieces of driftwood on the beach, and also some greenish stones, worn smooth and polished by the constant washing of the waves and wet sand over them. Ted quickly made a big circle about the searchers, putting here a stick and there a stone, until the place was well marked and could be easily found again.
“It’s a good thing it’s above the high tide,” said Mr. Keller. “If we had been sitting nearer the water the ring would be lost forever. For the tide would cover the place and might, perhaps, wash the ring out to sea.”
“Oh, I wonder if I shall ever get it back!” sighed his wife.
“I think so,” he answered, hopefully.
But it was a vain hope. Though Mr. and Mrs. Keller searched carefully, and the Curlytops helped, taking up and casting aside handful after handful of sand, the golden band did not show gleaming in the bright sun.
As each handful of sand was picked up, it was tossed as far to one side as possible, without the circle of stones and sticks made by Ted. In this way the same sand would not be looked over twice.
“I’m afraid we shall have to give it up—at least, for the time being,” said Mr. Keller, at last.
“Oh, do you mean I shall never find my ring?” cried his wife.
“I wouldn’t say that,” he replied. “It certainly is somewhere around here.”