ters in the garage, and as quickly as the monkey smelled food Mary
had her own troubles in restraining his appreciation. He wanted to
walk all over everything and sample every article in sight that even
looked like food.

"He surely was hungry," admitted Michael, showing an interest in the
animal in spite of his voiced dislike for it. "They are kinda cute,
ain't they now?" he ventured.

"And say, Michael," began Cleo at this favorable opening, "do you think
your cousin would like to take a place up at Second Mountain? You see,
Mary's folks are all away. You know her grandfather is in Crow's Nest,
and they have some beautiful things at the studio that should be cared
for."

"We can give her good wages," assured Mary, "and Grandie would so
appreciate a real housekeeper."

"Say, listen!" said Michael. "I'll forgive the monkey now. That's the
very place for Katie Bergen. Just you run along and fix it up with
Jennie for to-night, and I'll take care of the monkey."

"There!" said Cleo, when they left the garage, "isn't that just like a
good natured old Michael? He's petting our mascot already." And they
all agreed it was just like Michael to pet a monkey.

CHAPTER XXI

REDA'S RETURN

When Mrs. Dunbar heard the story of the day's adventures, even she
showed surprise.

"I hardly know how to excuse myself for allowing you girls to go up
there alone," she said, when the scouts had unfolded the exciting
story, "except that you always do seem so capable!" Then she laughed
and tapped Cleo under the chin. "Of course you would be capable," she
added, "when you are related to me."

"Oh, there really wasn't any danger," Grace hurried to say, fearful
their wings of adventure might be clipped by the scissors of prudence.
"Besides, we had Shep with us, you know."

"Yes, and, Auntie, he acted so queerly," said Cleo. "He found an old
yellow handkerchief, and simply insisted on tearing it to shreds. I
never saw him hate anything so."

"Yellow handkerchief, did you say?" repeated Mrs. Dunbar, and when Cleo
said "yes" the aunt just shook her head understandingly. She knew it
was also a yellow handkerchief that Shep dragged in with him the night
he received the bullet wound. The two articles must have belonged to
the same person. No wonder Shep would hate both!

"But do let me get a look at those wonderful trinkets," said Mrs.
Dunbar, when they finally did manage to reach the sitting room and
there drop so