“But this one does not belong to anyone: at least a—a monkey has it and a monkey isn’t anyone, is he?” Doris blushed in her excitement.
“No,” said the king with a laugh. “Not that I know of.”
Then of course the story of the jeweled monkey had to be told.
When the story was finished the king sat for a long time in a brown study.
“Of course,” he exclaimed at last, “it sounds wild, but there are a great many stories—most of them wild tales I guess—about the treasure hidden by old Emperor Christophe before his reign was brought to a close.
“We know there was a heap of gold then and a barrel of jewels. What became of them? Who knows? What if this monkey has discovered the hidin’ place of that wealth? You might follow him—”
“And find all the hidden treasure,” Doris broke in excitedly.
“Exactly,” smiled the king. “But you’ll probably never see that monkey again. And yet, it’s strange what things happen. Take your landin’ on this island. You might have landed anywhere else and been lost from your family for days and days. But now, if you are brave enough, you’ll be at home in less than three hours.”
“Three! Three hours!” they cried excitedly.
“Less time perhaps. By airplane. My supply plane will be here within an hour. Then, if you’ve got the nerve, you can go flyin’ straight back to Cape Haitian. Do you dare?”