Derrice tapped the pony on the neck by way of challenging him to keep up with her, and went with flying feet toward Miss Gastonguay's gazeebo, which was a summer-house situated in a clearing by the river.
The pony went with her, for he knew that supper-time was approaching, and Miss Gastonguay, left alone with her guest, walked silently on beside him.
After the lapse of a few seconds he drew a small object from his pocket, with a calm, "I found something beside Derrice's watch down the well."
"Did you?" she said, politely.
"Yes,—something with the Gastonguay crest on it. The watch was lying snuggled up to it just as if it had gone down there to find it. There was only this one clear place on the top of a flat rock. The rest was choked with rubbish. I guess the ring had been down for some time," and he handed the small article to her.
Miss Gastonguay glanced sharply at him. His expression was composed, and by no means curious. He gave the ring to her as if she had a right to it, but he seemed to have no desire to question the strangeness of its discovery.
"Did you tell Derrice?" she asked.
"No."
"How do you suppose it got there?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "I guess some thief stole it and on his way to be searched chucked it in there."