They prowled around for about twenty minutes, and then wandered back toward the launch.
“Did you look into this hole, Mart?” asked Nancy, pointing to a wide, shallow one near by. “It doesn’t go very deep. This particular excavator lost heart early in the game.”
“No, I missed that.”
Martha went to inspect it, while the rest strolled on. A cry of delight and surprise from Martha made them turn suddenly. She was running toward them so eagerly that she did not see a twisted root in the path. Her foot caught in it, and down she went, rolling over and over down the slope to their very feet. They picked her up with anxious questions as to the extent of her injuries, trying hard not to laugh; for she had presented a very funny spectacle.
“I’m—all—right,” she gasped. “Don’t bother. But look.”
She opened one hand, which she had kept tightly closed in spite of her catastrophe. In the palm lay an earth-stained, blackened coin!
“I saw the edge of it sticking out from one side of the hole, and I could hardly believe my eyes when I pulled it out! Just think of my having been so very lucky!”
She could talk of nothing else for some time on the return trip, and the others tried to share her enthusiasm.
Jim examined the coin closely when they returned to the Lovett House, and then congratulated Martha on her good fortune. As he cleverly swung the big bus around the corner, and on the road out of Chester, he looked searchingly down at Nancy who was sitting beside him. She flushed a bit, but her eyes were dancing with mischief.
“What would you give to know?” she asked teasingly, in a low voice.