you to bother like this.”
“Then you think wrong, Roger,” said Miss Pepper, and began to draft out an advertisement. It went off by the next post, much to the children’s annoyance.
“Goodness knows who we’ll get now,” said Diana gloomily. “At least we knew Mr. Young—and we knew how to get him talking so that we didn’t have to do much work ourselves. Blow!”
For the next three days the children were quite free to do what they liked. They found the riding school, and Miss Pepper arranged for one whole-day ride, and two hour-rides. That was fun. Loony was the only one who disapproved of it. He hated Snubby and the others to go off on horses, because sooner or later he couldn’t keep up with them and dropped back. The stable dog, a big airedale, kept up with the whole ride easily and was very scornful of the little spaniel.
They found the river and hired a boat. They could all swim like fishes, so Miss Pepper didn’t worry about them on the river. They explored the countryside, and enjoyed looking for uncommon flowers, unusual birds and queer beetles. At least the two boys did—Diana didn’t do much seeking for birds and flowers—she “mooned along” as the boys called it, enjoying the smells, the sounds and the sights of the countryside—the smell of the meadowsweet, the blue of the chicory, the queer little trill of the yellow-hammer, and the blue flash of the kingfisher as he flew past them, crying “tee-tee-tee!”
On the third day Snubby roused the scorn of the others. Diana was sitting beside the bank of the river, watching for the kingfisher again. Roger was lying on his back with his hat tilted over his eyes, listening to the high twitter of the swallows as they darted over the water, skimming the surface for flies.
Snubby was nowhere to be seen. He had crawled off to see if he could watch a few young rabbits who had unexpectedly come out to play in the daylight. Suddenly he came back.
“I say! Do you know what I’ve just seen?”
“A cabbage butterfly,” suggested Diana.
“A dandelion,” said Roger, not moving.
“A monkey!” said Snubby. “Yes, go on, laugh. But I tell you it was a monkey!”
“Don’t try and stuff us up with one of your tall stories,” said Roger. “We’re not in the lower third with you.”
“Look here—I tell you I did see a monkey,” repeated Snubby. “It isn’t a tall story. It was at the top of a tree and it swung itself down half-way, saw me—and disappeared. Loony didn’t see it—but he smelt it. I could see his nose twitching like anything.”
Diana and Roger stopped listening. Snubby had too many marvels to tell—wonderful things always seemed to be happening to him—this must be one of them! Diana shushed him.
“Sh! I think I can hear the kingfisher. He may come and sit on this branch.”
“You are a disbelieving lot,” said Snubby bitterly. “Here I come and tell you, absolutely solemnly and truthfully, that I’ve just seen a wizard monkey, and all you talk about is kingfishers.”
Nobody said anything. Snubby sniffed scornfully. “All right—I’m going off by myself. And I shan’t come back and tell you if I see a chimpanzee this time!”
He went off with Loony. Roger gave a gentle little snore—he was asleep. Diana sat with her chin on her knees, and was at last rewarded for her long wait. The kingfisher flashed down, sat on the branch just in front of her, and waited for a fish to swim along in the water beneath.
Snubby went gloomily through the wood behind. Loony trotted along at his heels, pondering over the inexplicable ways of rabbits that lived down holes too small for dogs to get into.
Then he stopped and growled deep down in his throat. “What’s up?” said Snubby. “Oh—somebody coming? I can hear them now. Wish I had ears like yours, Loony, though how you hear at all with those big ears flapping over your earholes, I really don’t know!”
Somebody came through the wood, whistling softly. Loony growled again. Then Snubby saw the newcomer. He was a boy of about fourteen or fifteen, burnt very brown. His hair was corn-coloured and he had eyes so blue that they were quite startling to look at. They were set curiously wide apart and were fringed with thick dark lashes. He had a very wide mouth that grinned in a friendly fashion at Snubby.
“Hallo!” said the boy. “Have you seen a monkey?”
CHAPTER V
BARNEY AND MIRANDA
That was the first time any of the three children saw the strange boy they were to know so well. Snubby stared at him, at his brilliant, wide-set blue eyes, and friendly grin. He liked this boy immensely, but he didn’t know why.
“Lost your tongue?” said the boy. “Well, I’ve lost my monkey. Have you seen one anywhere?”
The boy did not talk quite like anyone Snubby had ever heard. He had a slight American twang, and yet he sounded foreign—Spanish—Italian—what could it be? Nor did he look English, for all his blue eyes and fair hair.
Snubby found his tongue. “Yes!” he said. “I have seen a monkey. I saw one about five minutes ago. I’ll take you to where I saw him.”
“Her,” said the boy. “It’s a she-monkey. She’s called Miranda.”
“Is she really yours?” said Snubby. “I’ve always wanted a monkey. I’ve only got a dog.”
“Lovely dog, though,” said the boy, and he gave Loony a pat. Loony at once rolled over on his back and put all his legs into the air, doing a kind of bicycling movement upside down.
“Clever dog,” said the boy. “Why don’t you get him a little bicycle?” he said, turning to Snubby. “See how well he pedals upside down. Get him a bike with four pedals and you could make a fortune out of him. ‘The only bicycling dog in the world!’ ”
“Do you really mean it?” said Snubby eagerly. He was ready to believe anything wonderful about Loony. The boy laughed.
“No. ’Course not. Come on, where’s this tree? I must find Miranda—she’s been gone an hour!”
Miranda was in the tree next to the one that Snubby had first seen her in. The boy gave his soft little whistle and the monkey leapt down like a squirrel, landing in his arms. He fondled her and scolded her.
“You know,” said Snubby, trying to keep the excited Loony away from the monkey. “You know, I told my two cousins about the monkey and they absolutely refused to believe me. I suppose you wouldn’t play a little trick on them for me?”
“If you like,” said the boy, turning his blue eyes on Snubby with an amused look in them. “What do you want me to do?”
“Well—do you think you could make Miranda walk all round my cousins, or something like that, and then come back to you?” said Snubby eagerly. “Then I could go up and they’d tell me they’d seen a monkey too and I’d disbelieve them like they disbelieved me!”
“Not much of a trick,” said the boy. “I’ll tell Miranda to drop on them from a tree and then leap off
