“I suppose it is hanging up on its nail,” said Caleb, “I mean to go and get it.”
So Caleb walked off the mole, and went slowly up towards the house, singing by the way, while David and Dwight went after another load of gravel. While they were putting down this load, and spreading it on, Caleb came back, looking disappointed and sorrowful, and saying that he could not find his whip.
“Where did you put it when you had it last?” asked David.
“I put it on the nail,” said Caleb, “I always put it on the nail.”
“O, no, Caleb,” said Dwight; “you must have left it about somewhere.”
“No,” said Caleb, shaking his head with a positive air, “I am sure I put it on my nail.”
“When did you have it last?”
“Why,—let me see,” said Caleb, thinking. “I had it yesterday, playing horses on the wood-pile: and then I had it this morning,—I believe,—when I went up the brook to meet Raymond.”
“Then you left it up there, I know,” said Dwight.
“No,” said Caleb, “I am sure I put it on my nail.”