So with a quick bound Jacko—­which seems to be the name of all those long-tailed chaps—­was perched on Flossie’s shoulder, tearing at her hat with two paws, trying to pull off what he thought were ripe, red cherries.

“Oh!  Oh!” screamed Flossie.  “Oh, stop!”

“Wait till I get hold of him!” cried Freddie.

“Come away!  Come away froma de littlea gal!” yelled the piano Italian.  Some in the crowd laughed and others screamed.

The monkey kept pulling and tearing at Flossie’s hat until he had pulled it from her head and then, jumping down off her shoulder to the ground, the animal crouched under the piano and began pulling off the red cherries.  But one bite told him they were not real, and then, perhaps frightened at what he had done and fearing he would be punished, the monkey tried to run away.

But he was held by the string on his collar, and the Italian, perhaps afraid that he would be made to pay for Flossie’s hat, which his monkey had torn to pieces, pulled Jacko to him, perched him on his shoulder and hurried away, wheeling the street piano.

“Oh, Freddie!  Freddie!  What shall I do?” cried Flossie, as she looked at her sadly torn hat.

“It’s a shame,” said a woman in the crowd.

“You’ll need a new hat, little girl,” said another woman.

That gave Freddie an idea.  If his sister needed a new hat he was the one to help her get it.  He looked up and down the street.  Across the way was a large drygoods store, in one of the windows of which were many hats and other things for girls and ladies to wear.

“Come on, Flossie!” cried Freddie, clasping her hand.  “I’ll take you there.”

“Where?” she asked.  Tears had come into her eyes when the monkey tore her nice, new hat.  But she did not really cry.  “Where are you going to take me, Freddie?” she asked.

“Over to that big store; and we’ll buy a new hat for you,” said the little fellow.  “Then we’ll go back to the station and wait for Daddy and the rest.  Come on.  I’ll get you a new hat.”

Flossie wondered how Freddie was going to do it, but she did not ask.  Leaving the torn hat in the street, she went with her brother.  He led the way into the big store, which, though it was not one of the large ones of New York, was much bigger than any in Lakeport.

“Well, little ones, what can I do for you?” asked one of the tall men in the store, as Flossie and Freddie strolled in.  “Are you with your parents?”

“No, sir, we’re all alone,” spoke up Freddie.  “We were lost on an express train, but we’re waiting for my father and mother and Bert and Nan.  But a monkey chewed up Flossie’s hat and I want a new one for her.  You sell hats, don’t you?”

CHAPTER X

LOST UNDERGROUND

Flossie and Freddie looked up at the tall man, who smiled kindly down at them.  He seemed to be laughing at something, though whether it was Flossie’s flaxen hair, now rather tangled because the monkey had pulled off her hat, or because Freddie looked so funny asking his question, the children could not tell.