"I suppose he belongs to some one and has run away," said Lou. "I'll run down and open the door of the back porch, then perhaps he'll come in and we'll keep him."
"O no! Don't keep him," urged Morris, pathetically, "because mamma could never tell what things the monkey did, and what things Jack and me did, and it's very hard to have nuffing but bread and milk for your supper when you've only breaked a banjo string."
"Morris," said Mrs. Bell, "mamma will never doubt your word again. But Lou only means to keep him till we find his owner."
So they opened the door of the back porch, and after a while in walked Mr. Monkey. Then Bridget ran up from outside and shut him in. At first he jumped around as if he did not know what to make of it, but suddenly, spying the children's hammock, he swung himself into it and lay very still for a long time.
"Perhaps he's sleepy," said Morris, who stood watching him through the glass door.
"Of course he is," answered Lou. "I guess you'd be sleepy too, if you had been out all night."
Just then some one gave the bell a good strong pull. Morris ran and opened the door, and there stood a foreign-looking little gentleman.
"Can you tell me, my leetle fellow, if my monkey has been in this house?" he asked in broken English.
"O yes! He's been here, and he's here now," Morris replied, leading the way to the hammock.
"I hope he has not done much mischief," said the gentleman.