Part 18

She was dreaming of the difficulty of making a little pink silk cushion out of a mussy end of flaming yellow ribbon that Candace seemed to have insisted on her using; and as she worked away, wishing it was pink, and trying to make herself believe it was pink, she saw it grow yellower and yellower, till finally she threw it down. And that twitched the needle and knotted up the silk thread, and then off her thimble flew with a little click--snip, and "O dear me!" exclaimed Polly, and opened her eyes.

She was just going to say, "Oh, I'm so glad I was only dreaming, and 'tisn't that hateful yellow cushion in reality," when another little click--snip, just like the one when her thimble dropped off in her dream, struck her ear. This time it was a "really truly" noise, and no dream, and Polly flew up in her pretty bed and leaned on her elbow.

Yes, and not only a click--snip, but a _sh--flop!_ or something that sounded as much like that as anything that could be put into words.

Polly flew out of bed, tossed on her pink wrapper, and only stopping to think, "I mustn't go into Mamsie's room, for that will wake King Fisher,"--Papa Doctor was away with a sick patient out of town,--she crept softly off to Ben's room, just around the angle of the hall, and, flying up to the bed, she gave him a little nip on the shoulder.

"Polly!" exclaimed Ben, sitting bolt upright, and, dashing his hands across his eyes, he was wide awake in an instant. "What's the matter?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Polly, huddling up to the side of the bed, "only hush, do, the door's shut, but don't speak loud. There's such a funny noise; it sounds downstairs, Ben," she said, with a little shiver.

"Funny noise!" said Ben. "Well, now, you creep back to your room and lock the door, and stay in there, Polly."

"Oh, Ben, don't go down," she cried, seizing his arm.

"Do as I say." He never spoke in such a tone before, and Polly, who had no thought of disobeying, found herself soon in her own room, wishing that she hadn't called Ben, and longing to run out and help, and a thousand things besides.

Ben meantime was out in the hall, a stout walking-stick in his hand, hanging over the banister. Yes, Polly was right, there certainly was a funny noise, and it appeared to come from downstairs, too. It wasn't just what he supposed would be raised by anybody getting in to rob the house; it was more like something dropping; and then another sound, like a flap, flap of the window shade. But it was just as well to act speedily, and yet it must be done with caution; so he crept off to the back hall, where he could press the button that gave the signal to the men in the stable.

And he presently saw the lights flashing as they turned their dark lanterns a second toward the big stone mansion. Well, whatever the trouble was, they would soon find out, for Thomas had a key for just such possible emergencies, and the search would--

Ben never finished it in his mind, for a sharp noise, so near him that it seemed as if the person making it must be close to his heels, sent every bit of blood away from his cheeks. He couldn't turn, for what might be back of him in the darkness? It wasn't the click of a pistol exactly,--Ben, in all his cold terror felt struck with the little resemblance to any such noise,--still, as there was nothing else so likely to be that very thing, why, it must be, he concluded.

Downstairs he could hear, with senses sharpened, that Thomas had entered the house and that the search had begun in earnest. Well, somebody, whoever it was with that pistol, would probably do something more than click it before long, when another noise, this time a little farther off, a soft, pat--pat, sent his mind in another direction. Either there were two burglars who had worked their way upstairs, or the one with the pistol had heard the noise downstairs, and concluded to try for an escape.

And now Ben's blood was up, and he softly followed in the direction of the sound, grasping his stick hard and setting his teeth. "It'll be easier for me than for the other fellow, as I know the way," flashed through his mind.

But he didn't seem to get much nearer. Of course he would stop when there was no noise, then the soft pat--pat would begin at a further remove, and on Ben would creep after it.

He must at least keep the trail till Thomas and the other serving-man could put in an appearance on that third floor. What,--ah, there he is! Again the click! And the portiere twitched out by the sudden movement of a hand. Ben swung his stout stick above his head, and brought it down to hear a squeal of fright and pain, and Jocko, whose tail only had suffered, leaped into his face.

Over went Ben, the stick, and monkey together, just escaping the long stairs, as Thomas and his men rushed up, turning the lanterns on every side to find the cause. Doors were thrown open and frightened faces appeared, while Polly was already down on her knees by his side. "Oh, Ben," then her fingers felt Jocko's hairy coat.

"That beast!" It was all Ben could get out. Then he lay back on the floor and laughed till he was so weak he could hardly breathe. "He's a--sweet--dear--little thing--" at last he made out to say, "isn't--he--Polly?" he ended gustily.

XXVI

"COULD YOU TAKE HIM, BEN?"

"Of course," said Grandpapa, "after this, Jocko must go."

And "Of course," echoed every one else. "But where?"

"Oh, do send him to the Zoo," begged Polly, "do, Grandpapa dear, and then we can go and see him sometimes and take him nice things to eat."

"I don't believe Ben will want to go very often," said Jasper, with a little laugh, "will you, old fellow?"

"Yes," said Ben, with another laugh, "as long as I don't meet him in the dark, when he jumps at me from a curtain, I'd just as soon see him as not."

"Oh, I'm so very glad he is going to the Zoo," said Polly, with a long breath of relief, "he'll be real happy there with such lots of other monkeys."

But Jocko didn't go to the Zoo after all with "such lots of other monkeys," for Candace, hearing the news of the disturbance by supposed burglars at Mr. King's big mansion, and the consequent plan to send Jocko away, came waddling up the driveway as fast as she could.

"Here's Candace!" shouted Joel, who spied her first. "Come on, Pip, I guess she's got some candy sticks."

But Candace was so out of breath when she reached the big stone steps that she sank down to rest. If she had any candy sticks in the big black woollen pocket she always wore at her side, it couldn't have been announced at present. The truth was, however, that in the hurry and excitement of leaving the little shop, she had forgotten them. Whereat Joel was wofully disappointed, but he covered it up as best he might, seeing her chagrin when she pulled out all her things and shook the empty pocket.

"Oh, me, I've clar forgot 'em," she mourned, holding up her black hands in dismay, as the boys hung over her, still hoping that the candy sticks might be hiding in a corner of the big pocket.

"Shake it again, Candace! Shake it again!" cried Joel. "Here, let me," he begged.

"No, no, Mas'r Joel," protested Candace, in alarm, and putting both hands over the generous black woollen pocket, "you'll done shake it to def, you will. Dey ain' dah, I tell you. Oh, me, to tink I sh'd a-gone an' forget dem. An' it's all about dat ar monkey. Oh, whee! I ain' no bref lef'," and she rocked back and forth on the step, fanning herself with her black alpaca apron, without which she was never attired for a visit up at the King mansion.

"Well, Jocko isn't going to stay here any longer," announced Joel, briskly. "He's going up to the Zoo."

"Oh, no, he ain', Mas'r Joel," contradicted Candace, stopping her fanning to seize his arm.

"Yes, he is, Candace," declared Joel, bringing his black eyes on her in surprise; "he's got to go, he's been so naughty. Grandpapa says it isn't safe to keep him here any longer."

"Well, he ain' goin' to dat ar Zoo," protested Candace, bobbing her black bonnet, from which depended a big figured lace veil. "No, no, Mas'r Joel! Oh, your Grandpa won't neber send him dar," and she clasped her hands, while the tears came into her eyes.

"Yes, he will," stoutly repeated Joel, twisting away to stand still and regard her in intense astonishment, "'cause he said so, and my Grandpapa always does just what he says he will, Candace King."

Whenever the children wished to be very impressive with her they called her "Candace King." This usually overcame her with delight. But on this occasion she didn't notice it at all, but, beginning to blubber, she rocked back and forth on the step, saying between the gusts of her distress, "Oh, no, he won't, neber in all dis worl'."

"I'm going for Polly," said Joel, at his wits' end, and springing past her on the steps. Pip, not to be left alone with that singular old black woman, who now terrified him greatly, pattering after, the two raced into the house.

"Polly!" called Joel. "O dear! Where is she?"

"Here!" cried Polly, bobbing out of the music room, her practice hour being just over. "What is the matter, Joe?"

"Oh, Candace is out on the steps," said Joel, "and I guess she's got a fit."

"Candace out on the steps," cried Polly, "and in a fit! O dear me!" and she rushed out.

To be sure, there sat Candace, rocking back and forth, her face covered with her big hands, and wailing miserably.

"Oh, Candace!" and Polly sank down on the step beside her and throwing her arm around the big black figure, she put her cheek up against one of the black hands, "do tell me what is the matter." Joel and Pip, who had both followed, ranged themselves on either side.

"He won' send him away to de Zoo, will he, honey?" gasped Candace.

"What?" cried Polly, for the words were so muffled back of Candace's big hands, it was impossible to hear a word. "What do you say, Candace?"

So Candace went all over it again; but it wasn't much better so far as Polly's hearing it was concerned, and at last Polly gave it up in despair and started to her feet.

"I don't know what you are talking of, Candace," she declared, "so I'm going to get Grandpapa to come out and see what is the matter with you."

"Oh, no, honey, don'!" and Candace grasped Polly's gown. "You arsk him, dat's a good chile. Arsk him for pore ol' Candace," and she lifted her streaming eyes piteously.

"Ask him what?" cried Polly. "I don't know what you want, Candace. I haven't heard a word that you've been saying."

"She's awful funny," observed Joel; "I told you she was going to have a fit." With that Pip retreated suddenly and ran over to Polly's side, around whose gown he stared with very wide eyes at the big figure on the steps.

"She said something about the monkey," continued Joel, "and--"

"Yes, dat's it," cried Candace, delighted to be understood by somebody. "Oh, he won' send him to de Zoo, will he, Miss Polly?" she begged.

"Indeed he will," declared Polly, positively. "And you ought not to want Grandpapa not to send him," she said, much displeased, "for Jocko's been very naughty; very naughty indeed, Candace."

"Den he won' gib him to me," wailed Candace, releasing Polly's gown, and dropping her head so that the big figured lace veil trailed on the step. "O me--O my!"

"What's that you say, Candace?" cried Polly, dropping down on her knees again. "Do you want Jocko?" feeling as if she couldn't believe her ears.

"Ob course; dat's what I've been tellin' you and Mas'r Joel all de bressed time," said Candace, raising her head to survey them both with extreme dignity.

"Oh, she hasn't said a single word," began Joel.

"Hush, Joel," said Polly. "Candace, do you really want Jocko; really and truly?" and her eyes shone.

"Ob course I does;" Candace's head bobbed so decidedly that Polly had no reason to doubt her. "I'm dre'ful lonesome and he'd be comp'ny," as she swept the tears away with both hands.

"Oh, I'm so very, very glad you want Jocko!" cried Polly, hugging the big figure. While Joel cried "Hooray!" And Pip, when he saw all things turning out so well, emerged from the shelter of Polly's gown and piped out "Hooray," because Joel did.

"But Jocko will work mischief, I'm afraid," and Polly's face fell suddenly, "and just think, Candace, of all the nice things in your shop."

But Candace was not to be balked. Having once set her heart on having Jocko as a companion, she was now prepared to show how she had counted the cost. So she drew herself up to her utmost height.

"Phoo!" she declared, snapping her stubby black fingers, "dat ar monkey ain' a-goin' to hurt none ob my t'ings, Miss Polly. You know my ole safe?"

"Yes," Polly did, a certain hanging wire arrangement where various eatables were kept, to be free from the inspection of mice that were rampant in the room behind the small shop.

"Well, I done clared dat ole safe all out dis berry mornin', soon's eber I heard ob de trouble. Dat'll be a fine t'ing for Jocko to swing in," cried Candace, triumphantly.

"But where will you keep all your eatables?" said Polly, in amazement.

"Oh, honey," exclaimed Candace, impatiently, "I keeps 'em outside, ob course."

"But the mice," suggested Polly, fearfully.

"Dar ain' goin' t' be no mice," declared Candace, decidedly, and clapping her big hands together smartly. "Do you t'ink any mouse is a-goin' to touch my t'ings when he can hear dat ar monkey a-singin' an' carryin' on? No, sir, he ain'!"

"Well then," cried Polly, springing up, "I do so want you to have Jocko. Oh, I do, Candace," and she clasped her hands. "If you are sure he won't hurt your things and you really want him."

"I'm shore," declared Candace, solemnly. At this Joel bounded off, but Pip decided to stay with Polly to see the matter through.

"How lovely!" and Polly's eyes sparkled, "that you want Jocko, and then, just think, we can see him whenever we go to your shop, Candace." She bestowed another hug on the broad shoulders, or so much of them as she could compass.

"I know it, honey." Candace showed two rows of shining white teeth in a broad smile. "An' den, w'en you ain' dar, w'y him an' me can talk, an' it'll be real sosh'ble like."

"Yes," said Polly, quite as happy as Candace herself.

"He'll be sech comp'ny ebenin's," said Candace, folding her arms in great satisfaction; "you see I gotter set up fer a spell, 'cause some one might come in an' buy somethin'. Only las' week an' Mis' Hardin's girl come in fer a spool o' tred. It's been mighty lonesome, Miss Polly."

"So it must have been," said Polly, sympathetically, with a little twinge of remorse that she hadn't thought of it before; "but then, you've had your cat, Candace."

"Yes, I know," Candace gave a truthful nod, "but w'en you says cat, you says all dar is. Now dat ar cat kain't talk none. An' no matter how I stuffs her, she only licks her paws, an' looks fer more. And she ain't no good as fer's comp'ny--real sosh'ble comp'ny whar dar is talkin' goin' on, I mean. An' den jus' t'ink wat a beau'ful voice Jocko's got!" At that Candace fairly beamed.

"Oh, I'll ask Grandpapa not to send Jocko to the Zoo, but to give him to you," said Polly, preparing to spring off. "And I 'most know he will, Candace."

But it was really unnecessary for her to do that, for Joel at this moment dashed in, screaming out, "Grandpapa says yes, he does; Candace can have Jocko!"

And presently Candace, chuckling in delight, was drawn within the big mansion, Joel and Polly on either side, and Pip racing along in the rear. And quicker than it takes to write it, the whole houseful knew where Jocko's new home was to be, and everybody thronged around the happy old black woman.

"Only don't blame me, my good Candace," said Grandpapa, laughing, whom the uproar had drawn out of his writing room, "if that monkey eats up all your shopful."

"He ain' a-goin' t' eat up my t'ings," declared Candace, dropping him so many courtesies it was with extra difficulty she got the words out at all.

"Look out that he doesn't," warned Grandpapa, and he laughed again. "Well now, the next thing, I presume, in the order of arrangements, is to see that Master Jocko gets down to your shop, for that he spends another night here is not my plan for him."

"Oh, I'm going to take him down," announced Joel, easily.

"You!" exclaimed Grandpapa, and he laughed harder than ever.

"Yes, sir!" answered Joel, promptly, "and Candace is going too."

"Well, I guess Candace wouldn't want Jocko by the time they got to the shop," said Jasper, _sotto voce_.

"I guess not too," said Ben, with a laugh.

"And I'm going too," declared Percy, pushing to the centre of the circle.

"And so am I," said Van, "if Joel's going. Can't I, Grandpapa?" he begged.

"Goodness, what a procession!" exclaimed Grandpapa; "and of course David wants to go--eh, Davie, my lad?"

"Yes, I do," said David, "very much indeed, Grandpapa," and his blue eyes shone.

"I thought so; and I see no reason why you shouldn't be in the party, if all the other boys go. But, dear me, I couldn't allow it. Why, it would be, for all the world, like a circus. And, besides, the monkey would get away from you; he'd be sure to."

"Oh, no, Grandpapa, he wouldn't," howled Joel, quite beside himself with disappointment, and the tears began to come. "I'd hold on to his chain just as tight," and he doubled up his brown fists to show his capacity for keeping things. "Please let me take him."

"No, no;" Grandpapa shook his white head. And he didn't look at Joe nor at one of the other boys, either, for their eyes seemed to be giving them so much trouble. "But I tell you what I will let you do; you can all go down this afternoon and see Jocko in his new home. That is, if Candace will allow it?" and he bowed his white head as courteously toward her as if she had been a great lady.

"Fo' shore, Mas'r King," said Candace, showing all her teeth, her smile was so expansive. "Jocko an' me'll be ter home, an' den I'll gib you de candy sticks," she said, turning to Joel.

"Oh, goody!" exclaimed Joel. Then his face fell. "Oh, you can't, 'twould take such a lot, Candace; we're all coming."

"Oh, yer go long," said Candace, poking him with her big black finger, "ye're goin' to hab dem candy sticks. Yer Gran'pa's done gib me dat ar monkey, an' don' yo' suppose I'm goin' ter gib nuffin'? Oh, yer go long, Mas'r Joel."

Meantime Jasper was asking, "Well, Father, how are you going to get Jocko down to Candace's?"

"It is something of a problem," said the old gentleman, stroking his white head thoughtfully, "but the best way that suggests itself is," and he hesitated and looked anxiously at Ben,--"it's too bad to ask it, but could you take him, Ben, in the depot carriage? Thomas will drive you down."

"Oh, I'll be company for Jocko," said Ben, laughing, "we'll have a fine ride together."

"How I wish I could go with you," cried Jasper. "O dear me! I'm well enough. Let me, Father, do!"

"The idea!" exclaimed the old gentleman, in horror, "and you've been so sick, Jasper King!"

"O dear me! 'Twould be such fun," mourned Jasper.

"Well, Polly, you come," said Ben, persuasively.

"Yes," said Polly, "I will;" but her face drooped, and she couldn't look at Jasper in his disappointment.

"And see here," old Mr. King cried suddenly, "Candace can drive down too. So go get your monkey, and be off, Ben and Polly! And, Candace, remember what I said, and don't blame me for whatever Jocko does in that shop of yours," and Grandpapa went back to his writing room. But they could hear him laughing even after he had closed the door.

It was one thing to plan this fine drive in such pleasant company to introduce Jocko to his new home, and quite another to carry it out. In the first place, the monkey couldn't be found in his accustomed little room up next to that of Thomas over the stable. And Polly turned so pale that Ben hastened to say, "Oh, nothing has happened to him; don't be afraid, Polly. Nothing could happen to that monkey."

"Oh, there has; I know there has, Ben," she declared, clasping her hands in dismay, while the rest of the children, all except Jasper, who, of course, was shut up in the library watching proceedings as best he could from one of the long windows, ran this way and that, calling frantically on Jocko to come, with every imaginable blandishment they could think of as inducement, and Candace sat down on the stable steps and wrung her hands, and lifted up her voice in dismal cries.

This was as much worse as it was possible to be, than if Jocko had gone to the Zoo, for now he had run away, of course, and probably never would be found. "He's done gone to--whar's dat place he come from, Miss Polly?" wailed Candace.

"India," cried Polly, hearing Candace's question, and running up in the interval of exploring several places where Jocko might be expected to hide. "Oh, he couldn't go there, Candace."

"Oh, yes, he could," contradicted Candace, obstinately; "he come from dar, and he could go back dar;" and she redoubled her sobs.

"But he came in a big ship," cried Polly, laying her hand soothingly on the fat shoulder. "Do stop crying, Candace, we'll find him soon, I guess;" but she looked very much worried. "Have you found him, Ben?" she asked in a low voice, as he suddenly appeared.

"No." Ben didn't really say the word, on account of Candace, but he shook his head, and Polly running over to him, he drew her off into a quiet corner. "I really believe the little scamp has run off."

"Oh, Ben, how very dreadful!" exclaimed Polly, turning quite white. "Whatever shall we do with Candace, and what _will_ happen to Jocko? O dear me!" and she wrung her hands.

"Well now, see here, Polly," said Ben, turning her around and gathering up her hands in his bigger ones to hold them fast, "we have just got to make the best of this, and--"

"Yes," Thomas was saying, and the rattling of a chain, together with the sound of his foot-steps, struck upon their ears. "I thought I'd just take the monkey out for a bit of an airing;" and in they both came to the stable, he and Jocko together.

It was impossible to describe the delight of the whole company at the restoration of the lost one. Jocko, who had felt his loss of caste considerably since his escapade of the previous night, put on at once his old airy demeanor, and capered and blinked and wrinkled up his face, and wheedled and begged, and altogether quite outdid any of his former attempts in that line, until the children hung over him and protested that he must not leave them. Oh, no, he mustn't!

At that, Candace, who had found her feet in a surprisingly quick manner at the monkey's entrance, began to take alarm at once, and her black face fell.

"But he has just got to go," said Polly; "you know, boys, Grandpapa has said so." And Ben reiterating the same thing, the children declared, "Yes, he's going to Candace's."

"And you are going down to see him," cried Polly. "Do hurry, Ben, we must take him right straight off, 'cause they want to go to Candace's shop just as soon as ever they can."

So pretty soon the depot carriage, so called because it was one of the vehicles for common use in the establishment, being all ready, with Thomas, whip in hand, quite equipped for the start, Polly and Ben helped Candace in, or rather Polly did, Ben having quite as much as he could do to take care of Jocko; then Polly hopped in, and then Ben, with Jocko crowding in between his legs, got in with some difficulty.

"Oh, wait, do wait," begged Davie, before the door was shut. "I want to bid him good-by."

"Oh, Dave, you are going to see him in a little while," cried Joel, trying to pull him back, "just as soon as we get down to Candace's shop."

But David persisted. "He's going away," he said, "and I shall bid him good-by from here."

"Yes," said Polly, "I think he ought to, Ben, because Jocko is going away from this home."