We went outside into the gathering dusk.
"It's hopeless trying to catch him now," I observed. "He's probably grinning down at us from the top of the walnut tree—thinking what fools we are."
We stared up at the dark tangle of leaves and branches and presently Gran'pa joined us, looking very flushed and gloomy.
"I expect he's up there!" I shouted, pointing heavenwards.
He made no reply, his emotions no doubt being far too deep for words.
"Look!" cried Molly. "I can see something moving."
I gazed aloft and at last made out a shadow-like form hauling itself leisurely upwards—and upwards. . . . It was so exasperating that for one mad moment I even thought of climbing in pursuit.
"Come along!" I said, at last. "Nothing but a shot gun will ever fetch him down again. He has enough nuts up there for a lifetime."
Gran'pa looked at me miserably.
"Confounded nuisance!" he mumbled. "That monkey cost me five pounds, George. . . ."