"Now see what you did, Sammie!" cried his sister Susie, sorrowfully. "You can't get your ball," and there she stood in the door, with an apron on, and that apron was covered with flour dust, yes, really it was.
"Hey! What did I tell you?" whispered Jumpo to Jacko. "They're baking cake, all right. See the flour on Susie's apron. I'm going to look hungry."
"And I'm going to get the football," said Jacko. "Maybe that will surprise Susie, and she'll offer us some cake without us looking hungry. Here I go."
"Good!" cried Jumpo, and before he could say anything more up the tree scrambled the red monkey to where the football was caught on a crooked branch.
"Look out! Here it comes down!" cried Jacko, in about a minute, and, surely enough, down came the football bouncing up and down like a bowl full of jelly on Christmas morning.
"Oh, fine!" cried Sammie. "I thought I would never get it back again. Isn't there something I can give you and your brother, Jacko?"
"Well," said Jacko, slow and hungry like, "we might have—"
"I know the very thing!" cried Susie. "I have just baked some cherry pies for Uncle Wiggily Longears and I know he'd want you to have some. Come in and I'll cut one."
"Oh, if this isn't the best luck!" exclaimed Jacko. "We didn't have to ask, so it's all right; eh, Jumpo?"
"Sure," said Jumpo in a whisper.