Читать книгу A West Point Treasure; Or, Mark Mallory's Strange Find онлайн

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“I think it’s a shame to fool him so,” said Grace. “The Parson is so solemn and dignified. And it hurts his feelings.”

“He gets over it all,” laughed Mark, “and then he enjoys it, too, else we wouldn’t do it; for every one of us likes our old geological genius. I don’t see what we should do without him. He knows everything under the sun, I’m sure, especially about fossils.”

“I don’t think it would be possible to fool him,” said she.

Mark chuckled softly to himself.

“That remark of yours just reminds me of something else,” he said. “The Banded Seven have put up a job to try.”

“Try to fool the Parson, you mean?” cried Grace.

By way of answer Mark fumbled under his jacket where the girl had noticed a peculiar lump. He drew forth a bit of stone and handed it to her.

“What would you call that?” he asked.

“It looks for all the world like a fossil,” she said.

“Yes,” said Mark. “That’s what we all thought. Dewey found it, and it fooled him. He thought it was the bone of a Megatherium, or one of those outlandish beasts. We were going to give it to the Parson, only I had the luck to recognize it. It’s nothing but a bit of a porcelain jug. And then Dewey suggested that we try it on him, too.”