“Perhaps,” he suggested, “it might be well to offer a reward.”
“A splendid idea!” she cried. “We’ll post it on this tree here. Have you a piece of paper? And a pencil?”
“Both.” He tore the front from an envelope and handed her his pencil. She accepted them and set herself down on the grass.
“Oh, dear, what shall I write on? The canoe paddle? Thanks. Now let me see. What shall I say?”
“You must start by writing ‘Lost!’ in big letters at the top. That’s it.” Ethan’s rôle of adviser carried delicious privileges. It allowed him to kneel quite close behind her and observe the pink lobe of one small ear from a position of disquieting proximity.
“And then what?”
“I beg your pardon!” he said, with a start. “Why, then—er—let me see. ‘Lost’——”
“I have that,” she said demurely.
“A small handkerchief belonging——”