CHAPTER XX
THE MASCOT'S RESCUE
"Oh, the poor little thing! See how he cuddles up! Wasn't he frightened to death!" and Mary hugged the chattering little animal under her arm, like a short haired terrier, or even an abused and exhausted little kitten. To the other girls it seemed quite impossible to realize this was really a monkey, and the domestic puppy or kitten naturally furnished a comparison.
"Oh, do let's hurry!" begged Madaline. "How do we know someone will not burst in upon us?"
"We don't," replied Cleo, without the hope of reassurance. "But we have to depend on Shep. I think he is behaving beautifully with a real monkey on the premises; no jealousy in good old Shep." She was making all possible haste with picking up the most important articles they had gathered to bring back with them to Cragsnook. "I have your treasures, Mary," she said, making a final hard knot in the shawl that held the jewelry. "The other girls are all ready. Come on, don't let us wait a moment longer," she cautioned.
"Can you carry the cane, and these pictures?" Mary asked. "I guess I can manage them if you cannot."
"Oh, no, you must take care of Chatterbox. He is lively enough to keep you busy. Here, Grace, you shoot the bolts on the doors as we pass out. Come on, Shep. Keep near the ladies, but let them pass out first," finished Cleo, determined to make the exit something of an imitation fire drill, if not in point of the numbers in line, at least in point of the caution applied.
The fright experienced when something "alive" had actually been discovered upstairs supplied enough excitement to make the whole situation extremely alarming. What could have brought a monkey there but humans, and what purpose had anyone in such an exploit? Between the finding of the monkey and the discovery of the jewels, the girls felt their day had thus far been one of unusual thrills, but a sense of actual danger seemed threatening to explode at their very heels now, and, making tracks over the mountain, away from the uncanny studio, they put into execution the Girl Scouts' danger drill, if not the school girls' fire drill. Once away from the house, Mary "collapsed into a dead silence," as Madaline expressed it in a whisper to Grace. Even the monkey's chattering was not answered.
Indeed, Mary was silent, almost to the point of a threatening "mood," since seeing the collection of empty boxes, and her friends were determined she would not relapse into anything so unpleasant. Plainly the boxes were ready to be packed; then the finding of the monkey convinced Mary that strangers had come into the studio, and were making preparations to loot it. Who they were, and just what they "were after, she could only surmise. But it was a most unpleasant surprise, amounting to a shock, and that to come just when things seemed to be shaping so favorably for everyone.
"Certainly I should not think of taking you up there again," said Mary finally, "but what can I do about the orchids?"
"They must be cared for," Madaline said sagely, "but we could never go up there, and perhaps—perhaps——"
"Get packed in one of the boxes, Madie?" teased Grace. "That surely would be dreadful. But don't you worry, Mary-love. We will find a way to take care of the studio until Professor is able to come back. Of course, I don't see how we are ever going to let you go there again, but since we don't have to decide that to-day let us postpone the evil. Too bad we didn't have a chance to look into the boxes; we might have been able to tell where they came from," she reasoned.
"Don't you dare go blaming Mally Mack for furnishing the boxes," objected Cleo. "I am sure no one in Bellaire would give away boxes to steal stuff from the studio," she declared. "At any rate someone has surely been busy up there, and I am glad our wires didn't cross again. Fancy us going up those stairs and seeing a couple of burglars squat among the boxes!"
This calamitous consideration acted as a spur to the romping girls, who were once more discovering short-cuts home from Second Mountain, and joining hands, they raced pell-mell through the daisy field, down to the path that edged the brook.
"I think it is too mean," grumbled Madaline. "We hadn't entirely searched all the places, nooks and boxes and things. We may have left a lot of valuables behind us for the robbers to pack in their boxes."
Everyone laughed at Madaline's literal and explicit surmise. It was characteristic of Madaline that she should stamp a mere guess with a most definite label, but the excitement of the flight with the treasures was too absorbing to admit of this trifle being noticed.
"I hope Aunt Audrey is in," said Cleo. "We must, of course, bring these things to her at once. She will know best what to do with them."
"And we better not mention them to anyone," cautioned Grace, "else we might again be visited with night prowlers."
That the strange child should fall back into a condition such as the scouts first found her in was additional cause for alarm. She scarcely spoke in answer to the questions piled upon her. Who might have been in the studio? What would they ever intend to do with so tiny a little baby monkey? What had they expected to put in all those boxes? Such questions came thicker than the stones they skipped over, but in reply the girls received nothing but skeleton answers from Mary, and these were built of simple, meager words.
"But the orchids? What can we do about them?" Grace insisted. This roused Mary. She was seen to shudder, and heard to sigh before replying:
"Girls, please forgive me for being so rude. But so much is rushing all about me, I can hardly think. I shall never let you go with me to the studio again——"
"Then you shan't go either!" promptly interrupted Cleo. "Your danger would be as great as ours, and we will never leave you until every thread of this mystery is untangled."
"Indeed, we will not," echoed Grace, while Madaline too offered her pledge of loyalty to their new member.
"You are sure the monkey will not bite you?" questioned Cleo, glad to change the subject.
"Oh, no indeed," Mary replied, patting the animal, that now seemed much at home, and quite content, in the hollow of her arm. "They are wise little creatures; we have many of them in South America, and this one seems to be trained."
"Whatever will your aunt say, Cleo?" Grace exclaimed. "Just think of fetching another surprise. We thought the fly catcher plant quite wonderful; but just imagine a real little monkey!"
"Oh, Aunt Audrey loves pets," declared Cleo, "and you see how well she has treated us!"
"I should say so," affirmed Madaline, "and we are pretty noisy pets at that."
"Uncle Guy will be delighted with this monkey, I am sure," continued Cleo, qualifying which monkey she referred to, "that is if he gets home in time, and if we are allowed to keep our chatterbox. Suppose someone takes him from us?"
"Can't have him," objected Grace, attempting to pat the dark spot of fur in Mary's arm. "He's going to be our mascot, aren't you—Peetootie? Wonder what we'll name him?"
"Let's have a real party for him——" But Grace had no time to finish out her party plans, for the roof of Cragsnook now loomed up through the trees.
"Mary," interrupted Cleo, "what do you think will be best to do about the orchids? We are almost home, and I think it would be better to have some suggestion to offer Aunt Audrey."
"Oh, it all seems so hopeless now," sighed Mary, "and just when Grandie is getting better and I felt so—so—happy!"
"Now don't you go worrying like that," Grace put in quickly. "These things are just new—new adventures," she declared, "and you will see how they all help to clear up the big mystery which is back of the whole thing," offered Grace. "Don't you think, Mary, we might get someone to go live in the studio, and take care of it? Someone whom you could trust, of course."
"If we only could—but then, you see, Grandie feels he is guarding something——"
As Mary faltered Cleo filled in the hesitation with a suggestion that they lay the whole story before Mrs. Dunbar and see what she might propose. It struck the girls as queer that the Professor should be "guarding" something in the deserted studio, but they were too considerate of Mary's feelings to press that point.
Cleo was carrying the hand-made basket, and in it the bundle of jewelry, tied up in Reda's black silk shawl, while each of the other girls was burdened with the most important of the articles unearthed in the search at the studio.
"I am so afraid someone may suspect we are carrying valuables," said Grace. "Cleo, do be careful, don't tip your basket, some jewel might slide out."
"No danger. They are all secure in the shawl," replied Cleo.
"Of course it is lovely to have these things if they all prove to be Loved One's," Mary said gently, "but do you know I really believe I care more about the pictures than anything else. They make me feel as if—as if—I just visited with daddy and mother again."
"There's Michael out in the back lots. Let's go through that way and we won't be apt to meet people on the road," suggested Grace, plainly anxious to get the jewels into Cragsnook without any possibility of molestation.
Greeting Michael pleasantly, they were attempting to hurry along, past the garage, when he called them to wait a moment.
"If you are going up to the house," he said, "would you mind telling Jennie that my cousin got in from Long Island to-day—a woman looking for a place out here? And ask Jennie if she can make room for her until I get a chance to look around for a place. I am sorry she came without giving me more time, but I just got the card on this mail."
"Certainly, Michael," offered Cleo. Then a thought struck her that seemed to offer some solution of the difficulties at the studio. Maybe Michael's cousin could keep house for Mary and her grandfather?
"Mary," she whispered, "do you mind if I ask Michael about his cousin?
She might go to the studio for us."
"Oh, wouldn't that be splendid!" and something like joy shot across
Mary's pale face. "I know any friend of Michael's would be faithful."
But Michael was just spying the little animal in Mary's arm. And the animal seemed to be just spying Michael!
"What on earth—have you got—there!" gasped the caretaker.
"Oh, the dearest little monkey——" Cleo attempted to explain, but was interrupted with a protest.
"A monkey!" cried Michael. "Of all the hated animals of the earth a monkey is the worst. Where ever did you pick the creature up?" He stepped nearer to examine the mascot, in spite of his denunciation.
"Now you couldn't hate a little thing like that," insisted Grace.
"Just see, he wants to shake hands with you."
Rather awkwardly the man extended one big brown finger. The queer little creature made a comical effort to grasp it, and at the same time shake his wizened head with a show of monkey intelligence.
"I don't exactly know why it is, but the Irish hate monkeys!" admitted
Michael, with a hearty laugh that interpreted the joke.
"But you will love this one," insisted Mary. "He is as tame as a kitten."
"And even Shep was kind to him," went on Grace. "Say, Michael," coaxingly, "couldn't we take him in your rooms for something to eat? He must be starved. We found him—in an empty house," explained Grace.
"And he needs it—I mean an empty house," declared Michael. "Can't you see him making himself at home in my little sitting room? I'll bet he would want to sleep in my best tea pot, or maybe he would prefer my new hat. They always like hats when they go around with the organ grinders. But tell me, girls, where did you get him? I don't want a couple of hurdy-gurdy pushers coming down on me for their monka," he finished, with a very weak imitation of the Italian accent.
"Someone left him in Mary's house, or else he came in by the chimney," said Madaline. "But at any rate he is ours, and we are going to have him for a pet. Now, Michael, please give him something to eat. See how pale he is."
Whether willingly or reluctantly, Michael now led the way to his quarters in the garage, and as quickly as the monkey smelled food Mary had her own troubles in restraining his appreciation. He wanted to walk all over everything and sample every article in sight that even looked like food.
"He surely was hungry," admitted Michael, showing an interest in the animal in spite of his voiced dislike for it. "They are kinda cute, ain't they now?" he ventured.
"And say, Michael," began Cleo at this favorable opening, "do you think your cousin would like to take a place up at Second Mountain? You see, Mary's folks are all away. You know her grandfather is in Crow's Nest, and they have some beautiful things at the studio that should be cared for."
"We can give her good wages," assured Mary, "and Grandie would so appreciate a real housekeeper."
"Say, listen!" said Michael. "I'll forgive the monkey now. That's the very place for Katie Bergen. Just you run along and fix it up with Jennie for to-night, and I'll take care of the monkey."
"There!" said Cleo, when they left the garage, "isn't that just like a good natured old Michael? He's petting our mascot already." And they all agreed it was just like Michael to pet a monkey.