“So I’ve heard,” admitted Bob. But he did not tell of what he had seen in the bramble patch.
“But I guess he won’t be up here with his monkey,” stated Ned.
“Do monkeys eat chestnuts?” asked Harry.
“Sure they do!” declared Bob. “Don’t you remember the story we used to read in school, of the monkey who hired a cat to pull the roasted chestnuts out of the fire?”
“Oh—that’s moving picture stuff!” laughed Ned.
Talking and joking they wended their way up Storm Mountain. They passed the cabin of Hiram Beegle, but saw no signs of life about it, and, as it was rather early, Bob thought it best not to stop then to speak to the old sailor.
“We’ll give him a hail on our way back,” he decided, the others agreeing to this.
Ned’s promise to lead his chums to a grove of chestnut trees not killed by the blight which swept over this country a few years ago, was carried out. And, parking the car in a quiet lane, the boys were soon gathering a goodly supply of the new, brown nuts.
The lads were not alone in their garnering, for the grove was a scene of activity on the part of squirrels and chipmunks who took this opportunity of laying up their winter’s store of food. But there were enough chestnuts for all, and having filled the bags they had brought with them, the boys began to think of returning.
The sun was higher and warmer when they passed the log cabin again, and Hiram Beegle was pulling weeds from between his rows of dahlias, for he had a small but beautiful garden of these large and showy flowers.