On the very edge of the bridge over Shark Creek, the mother of Nellie
Ribsam picked up the lunch basket which her daughter had taken to school
that morning. It lay on its side, with the snowy napkin partly out, and
within it was a piece of brown bread which the parent had spread with
golden butter, and which was partly eaten.

No wonder the afflicted woman uttered a half-suppressed scream when she
picked up what seemed a memento of her dead child.

While the lanterns were held in a circle around the basket, which the
father took from his wife, Mr. Ribsam lifted the piece of bread in his
hand. There were the prints made by the strong white teeth of little
Nellie, and there was not a dry eye when all gazed upon the food, which
the father softly returned to the basket and reverently covered with the
napkin.

No one ventured to speak, but the thoughts of all were the same.

Stepping to the railing at the side of the bridge Mr. Layton held his
lantern over, Nick and Mr. Kilgore immediately doing the same. The rays
extended right and left and far enough downward to reach the stream,
which could be seen, dark and quiet, flowing beneath and away through
the woods to the big pond, a quarter of a mile below.

In the oppressive stillness the soft rustling of the water was heard as
it eddied about a small root which grew out from the shore, and a tiny
fish, which may have been attracted by the yellow rays, leaped a few
inches above the surface and fell back with a splash which startled
those who were peering over the railing of the structure.