He gave a sort of gurgle and stopped short, waving his hands frantically until suddenly he became motionless, with one arm in the air and the other held stiffly before him with all the copper fingers of the hand spread out like a fan.
"Dear me!" said Dorothy, in a frightened tone. "What can the matter be?"
"He's run down, I suppose," said the hen, calmly. "You couldn't have wound him up very tight."
"I didn't know how much to wind him," replied the girl; "but I'll try to do better next time."
She ran around the copper man to take the key from the peg at the back of his neck, but it was not there.
"It's gone!" cried Dorothy, in dismay.
"What's gone?" asked Billina.
"The key."
"It probably fell off when he made that low bow to you," returned the hen. "Look around, and see if you cannot find it again."
Dorothy looked, and the hen helped her, and by and by the girl discovered the clock-key, which had fallen into a crack of the rock.