A Slotted Lid

I pushed past the cedar shavings under the step and walked back down the lane to the barrel. The red jasper rested undisturbed inside the dark hollow. Just below the iron hoop, lying in the damp clover, sat a heavy, round tin lid pierced by a neat rectangular slot. I wiped the soil from its rim and carried it over to the stave's opening. Tilting the tin disk upright, I wedged its lower curve firmly into the bottom groove of the split plank. It fit snug, closing off the hollow like a small vault, leaving only the narrow slot open to peer inside.