"There's the clock!" exclaimed Frank, as he saw the dial of the timepiece some distance from the big mass of masonry. "See, it stopped just at ten."
There were four dials to the clock, one for each side of the tower. The dials were of sheet iron with big gilt hands which were worked simultaneously by the one set of wheels and springs. This dial, to which Frank called attention, had fallen from its place, with the hands still attached to it, the rods to which they were fastened, and which served to turn them, having been cut off close to the back of the face.
"I'm going to take it home for a souvenir," Frank said. "If they want it back they can have it."
He picked up the dial, which was painted white with black numerals on it. As he did so he uttered an exclamation.
"What's the matter?" asked Ned.
"It's all mud, or something black," Frank replied. "I've got it all over my hands."
"Better let it alone," advised Bart. "The wind will blow it away, and you with it, if you try to carry it."
"I guess I can manage," Frank responded, and though the gale did get a good purchase on the
