Chapter 25

WHAT STOPPED THE ENGINE

With a chug-chug the motor boat started down along the sandy shore of Christmas Tree Cove. The children sat up in front, at the bow, as it is called, and Harry's recently recovered dog was with them, being petted first by one and then the other of the three little friends. Mrs. Brown and Mrs. Slater sat behind the children, and in the back, or stern, near the engine, were Mr. Ravenwood and Uncle Tad and Bunker Blue.

"Which dock shall I steer for?" asked Mr. Ravenwood, as the boat moved out from shore.

"Right there," and Uncle Tad pointed to the one nearest Bark Lodge.

"It certainly is strange how things happen in this world," said Uncle Tad, as he and Mr. Ravenwood were talking about the finding of the floating box and the recovery of Sandy. "If we could only find the lost pocketbook and the diamond ring now, I would say it might be almost like a fairy story."

"Yes," agreed Mr. Ravenwood, "it certainly might be called that." He was listening to the noise of the engine as he sat with one hand on the steering wheel.

"What's the matter?" asked Bunker Blue. "Anything wrong?"

"The motor sounds rather strange," answered the pattern-maker. "I was just wondering----"

He did not finish the sentence before the engine suddenly stopped with a sort of wheeze and groan which showed something was wrong.

"Something's caught in the flywheel," declared Bunker Blue.

"That's what it sounds like to me," added Uncle Tad.

"We'll have a look," stated Mr. Ravenwood, as he shut off the gasolene supply and opened the electric switch. Then he proceeded to lift the wooden covering of the engine.

"What's the matter?" asked Bunny Brown, looking back.

"The engine has stopped," his mother told him.

"What made it?" Sue wanted to know.

"That's what Mr. Ravenwood is trying to find out," said Uncle Tad.

Idly the boat floated on the water while Mr. Ravenwood looked in the covering case and around the flywheel.

"There's something jammed down under the flywheel, between it and the keel of the boat," he said. "I can just feel it. Seems to be a bit of rag or cotton waste that I use to wipe off the oil and grease from my hands and to polish the machinery. Wait, I can get it out," he went on, as he thrust his arm down deeper. "I have my hand on it, but it is jammed in pretty tight and----"

He gave a grunt and a pull, and then up came his arm, and in his hand he held something black, which dripped with water and oil.

"There it is," said the young man. "It must have been in the pit for some time to get so soaked as that. I don't remember dropping anything in there. In fact, I'm very careful, for there isn't much room between the rim of the flywheel and the keel, and even a small bit of waste will stop the wheel, just as this did."

"Is it waste?" asked Uncle Tad.

"No, it doesn't seem to be," was Mr. Ravenwood's answer. "Why--why----" he went on in surprise, as he laid the object down on top of the engine cover and examined it. "Why, it's an old leather pocketbook!"

"A pocketbook!" cried Bunny Brown and his sister Sue, and they looked at one another with startled eyes.

"Yes, that's what it is--an old pocketbook," went on Mr. Ravenwood. "How in the world it ever came here I can't imagine, unless----"

"Is it really a pocketbook?" asked Mrs. Brown in a strange voice, and her face was slightly pale as she turned to look at what had been taken out from under the engine. "Let me see it."

"Don't touch it!" cautioned Mr. Ravenwood. "It's soaked with oil and grease."

"What is in it--if anything?" went on Bunny's mother, in that same strange voice.

"I'll look," offered Mr. Ravenwood. "My hands can't get much more oily."

While the others eagerly watched, he opened the object, which really was a water and oil-soaked pocketbook, and he thrust his fingers down in the different compartments.

"Seems to have a little money in," he said, as he took out some nickles and pennies, and laid them on the cover. "Here's a--well, I declare, it's a five-dollar bill!" he said, as he opened a piece of paper. "It's covered with oil and grease, but it can be washed clean and will be as good as ever."

"A five-dollar bill!" exclaimed Mrs. Brown. "Oh, is there--is there anything else in the pocketbook? If there is, it must be----"

Mr. Ravenwood thrust his fingers into another section. A strange look came over his face as he drew out and held up in the sunlight something that gleamed and glinted and sparkled.

"A diamond ring!" he cried.

"Oh, it's my mother's! It's my mother's!" shouted Bunny Brown. "Give it to her!"

Mr. Ravenwood wiped the diamond ring on a clean bit of white waste, and then handed it to Mrs. Brown.

"Yes, it is mine. It's my diamond engagement ring that was in the pocketbook the dog took away! Oh, how glad I am!" she said, and there were tears in her eyes as she slipped the ring on her finger.

"Of all the remarkable happenings!" exclaimed Mrs. Slater.

"Just like a fairy story!" laughed Sue.

"Did Sandy drop the pocketbook in the boat?" asked Bunny.

"I think that must be how it happened," answered Mr. Ravenwood, as he looked in the purse for anything more that it might contain; but there was nothing. "Do you want it saved?" he asked Mrs. Brown.

"No, it was an old pocketbook and you might as well toss it overboard," she answered. "I have all I wanted out of it--my diamond ring."

"Well, we got the money back, too," said Bunny. "Can you really wash a five-dollar bill?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," Uncle Tad assured him. "I'll wash this and iron it and make it look like new." And this he did a little later.

The old pocketbook was tossed overboard. It sank in a circle of rainbow colors, caused by the oil on it, and as the boat started off again Mrs. Brown looked joyfully at her diamond ring so strangely recovered.

"I see how it must have happened," said Mr. Ravenwood, as they landed at the dock. "Sandy must have had the pocketbook in his mouth when he leaped aboard my boat, but I didn't notice it, as my back was turned. He must have dropped it inside the engine box, which was open, and it has been there ever since. To-day it worked its way under the wheel and stopped the machinery, or I might not have found it until I laid the boat up for the winter, when I always take the engine out to clean it."

"I think that is how it really did happen," said Mrs. Slater. "Sandy, you were a bad dog to take the pocketbook!" and she shook her finger at him. Sandy hung his head for a moment, but he was soon wagging his tail joyfully as Bunny, Sue, and Harry petted him.

And so Mrs. Brown's pocketbook and diamond ring, so strangely taken away, were found again. Sandy did not drop the purse in the carpenter shop, as was supposed. He carried it out again in his mouth, and kept it until he leaped aboard the boat, when he dropped it.

Mr. Ravenwood looked at the box in the woodshed, declaring it to be the one that had been lost overboard in the storm.

"So each one has his own again," said the young pattern-maker. "I have my box, Harry has his dog, and Mrs. Brown has her diamond ring."

There was much rejoicing, as you may imagine, and when Daddy Brown came up that night he had to hear the whole story over and over again.

Mr. Ravenwood departed that evening, taking his box with him and promising to call and see the Browns in Bellemere when they returned home.

But the joyous days at Christmas Tree Cove were not yet over. Many happy times followed, and Bunny Brown and his sister Sue were in the midst of them. They had some adventures, also, but every one agreed that the one of the lost and found diamond ring and dog was the most remarkable. And now, for a time, we shall take leave of our little friends, perhaps to meet them again in new scenes.

* * * * *

_This Isn't All!_

Would you like to know what became of the good friends you have made in this book?

Would you like to read other stories continuing their adventures and experiences, or other books quite as entertaining by the same author?

On the _reverse side_ of the wrapper which comes with this book, you will find a wonderful list of stories which you can buy at the same store where you got this book.

_Don't throw away the Wrapper_

_Use it as a handy catalog of the books you want some day to have. But in case you do mislay it, write to the Publishers for a complete catalog._

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GROSSET & DUNLAP, _Publishers_, NEW YORK

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These books for boys and girls between the ages of three and ten stand among children and their parents of this generation where the books of Louisa May Alcott stood in former days. The haps and mishaps of this inimitable pair of twins, their many adventures and experiences are a source of keen delight to imaginative children.

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* * * * *

Transcriber's note:

Obvious punctuation errors have been repaired.