The contents of that pocket she piled upon her seat; she raked the
interior with her nails, then she looked at Robert Day with dilating
eyes.

"_My_ gold dollar's gone!" said aunt Corinne. "That little old
man with a bag on his back--I just know he got into the barn and took
it last night."

"You put it in and took it out so many times yesterday," said
Bobaday, "maybe it fell on the carriage floor." So they unavailingly
searched the carriage floor.

The little old man with a bag on his back was now fixed in Corinne's
imagination as the evil genius of the journey. If he spirited out her
gold dollar, what harm could he not do them! He might throw stones at
them from sheltered places, and even shoot them with guns. He could
jump out of any culvert and scare them almost to death! This
destroyed half her pleasure as the day advanced, in watching boys
fish with horse-hair snares in the runs which trickled under
culverts. But Robert felt so much interest in the process that he was
glad to have the noon halt made near such a small fishing-place. He
took his lunch and sat on the bank with the boys. They were very
dirty, and one of them had his shirtsleeve split to the shoulder,
revealing a sun-blistered elbow joint that still worked with a right
good will at snaring. But no boys were ever fuller of out-door
wisdom. They had been swimming, and knew the best diving-hole in the
world, only a couple of miles away. They had dined on berries, and
expected to catch it when they got home, but meant to attend a show
in one of their barns that afternoon, the admission price being ten