Chapter 11 THE GOLDEN DOG

"I think, after all, the ravine is the nicest place for stories," said Jewel the next day.

The sun had dried the soaked grass, and not only did the leaves look freshly polished from their bath, but the swollen brook seemed to be turning joyous little somersaults over its stones when Mrs. Evringham, Jewel, and Anna Belle scrambled down to its ban