"Get out of here quickly," warned Jack, and this time Noddy took his advice without waiting. It was just as well he did, for the elderly gentleman, whose shining bald head had been belabored by the old maid's parasol, came in, accompanied by the damsel. She had recovered her hair when the monkeys were caught and had tendered handsome apologies to the would-be gallant.
"Where is that boy who started all this?" demanded the old gentleman.
"It was one of that gang there," cried Donald Judson, who had followed them and whose face showed plenty of scratches where the monkeys had clambered up to demolish his hat.
"Oh, what a terrible boy he must be," cried the old maid. "He ought to go to prison. Where is he?"
"Ask them, they'll know," cried Donald, pointing to Jack and Billy.
"No, it wasn't either of them. They were back in the crowd," cried the old maid; "it was another boy, a red-headed one."
"I'm glad I told Noddy to get out," whispered Jack to his friends.
"Look, they are whispering to each other. I told you they knew all about it," cried Donald, who saw a chance of avenging himself for his treatment by the monkeys.
"Say, young man," said the manager, coming up to Jack, "I think your friend was responsible for this rumpus."
"What rumpus?"