“A’w right,” agreed Gloria affably. “Half the responsibility is yours, don’t forget that.”
The white tissue paper was carefully unfolded, and then there was disclosed a little necklace, made of some dark, queer beads.
“Oh-oo-ho!” squealed Gloria. “More queer stones! And look! Here’s a note!”
Eagerly scanning what was written in back-hand on a piece of plain white note paper, the girls found this:
“To Gloria: I beg you to accept this trinket. That which was found was very precious to me. Won’t you be generous enough to accept this without question?
In Cog.”
They read it again. Gloria coiled the necklace around on the palm of her hand until it looked like a little black snake. Then she gave it to Trixy.
Held up to the light Trixy thought it looked like agate. Her father, she said, had a ring, his grandfather gave every boy in the family a moss agate stone each cut from the parent specimen, and this little necklace had one stone at least that looked like agate.
“But these,” pointed out Gloria, “they just look like Egyptian beads I bought at our fair. Don’t you know those you always liked? Black pearls, or some imitation?”
“But these are each different?”
“Yes. Sort of home-made affair. Who ever could have wished it on me?”