Over in the corner, under a funny little, cobwebby window she found it, half hidden by the tossed up hay.

She recognized it at once because of the curious little cover Grandmother had spoken of.  But, dear me, Grandmother would surely have to clean it before it was used for cobwebs and scraps of hay were all over the top!

“I wonder if the cover comes off, or just opens like a door,” thought Mary Jane as she bent over it.  “I guess I’d better see.”

She moved the cover the tiniest bit and found it was fastened to one side.  “It’s like a box,” she said aloud, “and it opens easy, I know!”

She opened it out and what do you suppose she saw down in the bottom of that basket?  You’d never guess!

Four of the cunningest little gray mice!  All snuggled down together into a little ball of fur—­Mary Jane would never have guessed there were four, they were so tiny, only she saw the four little black noses and four pairs of beady black eyes.

“You darlingest!” she exclaimed happily, and sat right down in the hay beside the basket to watch them.  She reached her finger in and touched their silky little backs; she watched them snuggle down tight and tighter together and she altogether forgot about Bob and egg-hunting and Grandmother and everything, she was so delighted.  But Bob didn’t forget about her, not he.

For a while he waited patiently at the bottom of the ladder.  He seemed to know that she might have to hunt a while for the basket.  But as the minutes went by and she didn’t come and didn’t come, he grew more and more restless.  He whined, and he walked around the barn and he looked out the door.  Then he came back to the foot of the ladder and put his front feet on the highest step he could reach.

But still there was no sign of Mary Jane coming down.  And for her part, the little girl was so interested in her mice that she wouldn’t have noticed had he barked out loud.

Finally he could stand it no longer.  With a sudden turn, as though he had quickly made up his mind something must be done, he ran out of the barn and up to the kitchen door.

Grandmother Hodges saw him and supposed Mary Jane was with him so she called kindly, “Did you find the basket, dear?”

No answer.

“Bring it in here for me to dust it off, Mary Jane,” she added.

No answer.

“That’s funny,” she exclaimed; “what ails the child?” And she stepped to the door to see why Mary Jane didn’t answer.

That was exactly what Bob wanted her to do.  The minute he saw she was coming to the door he bounded off in the direction of the barn.

Grandmother understood at once, as Bob had known she would, and without even stopping to drop the tea towel she had in her hand she followed him out to the barn.

Bob ran ahead, turning two or three times to make sure she was coming, till he reached the foot of the ladder.  There he danced around as though he was trying to say, “Now I’ve brought you here, do see what’s the matter!”