“Isn’t it quaint!” she exclaimed admiringly. “Let’s see if we can tell what time it is.”
“I know I can’t,” Cara insisted. “I never could make head nor tail of them.”
The dial rested upon a concrete pedestal which reached waist high when the girls stood beside it. Upon the brass face appeared slightly raised Roman numerals and the triangular gnomon cast its shadow across the four.
“It’s just a little after four o’clock,” Madge announced.
“That’s a safe guess,” Cara laughed. “You know school lets out at ten till.”
“You don’t need to guess with a sundial such as this. Half of them won’t tell time accurately. That’s because they’re turned out at the factory and sent all over the country. To be accurate a sundial must be made especially for the section where it is used.”
“This one does look home made,” Cara acknowledged. “It’s nice work though.”
Madge would have enjoyed wandering about in the garden but she could tell that her friend was eager to get away. Reluctantly, she gave her attention to the matter which had drawn her to the mansion.
“Tell me where it was that you saw your ghost,” she commanded.
“It wasn’t a dozen paces from where we’re standing. Someone was digging here in the garden.”