As Moody stooped to pick it up, the dog ran to Isabel and pushed his head against her feet, as his way was when he expected to have the handkerchief thrown over him, preparatory to one of those games at hide-and-seek which have been already mentioned.

Isabel put out her hand to caress him, when she was stopped by a cry from Moody.

It was _his_ turn to tremble now.

His voice faltered as he said the words, "The dog has found the pocketbook!" He opened the book with shaking hands.

A betting-book was bound up in it, with the customary calendar.