Watching Samuel Saul’s peaceful slumbers grew a little monotonous after a while, so Beth descended to the kitchen for a plate of cookies and a glass of water, and leaving this substantial luncheon beside their sleeping charge, they went down-stairs and for a while played on the piano with more strength than anything else.  After that they took more cookies and went over to play with Bobby.

Bobby, making a chicken yard out of wire netting, was delighted to have assistance, and they telephoned for Nan, who speedily joined them.

“Mother’s gone to town to-day to see your grandfather, who owns a bank, Bobby,” said Ethelwyn.

“I expect it’s on account of his losing a whole lot of money,” rejoined Bobby, standing on tiptoe on a box to pound in a nail.

“Where did he lose it?  Were there holes in his pockets?” asked Beth, unrolling the wire at Bobby’s order.

“On change,” said Bobby, with his mouth full of nails.

“Our money is in your grandfather’s bank, and the Home money and Grandmother Van Stark’s.  I hope he hasn’t lost anybody’s but his own,” said Ethelwyn anxiously.

“You’re not very polite,” said Nan.

“Well I do, but if he lost only change, prob’ly it’s his own, and mother’s gone to give him some more.”

“Pooh!” said Bobby, “it’s not—­”

But before he could say anything more, excited voices were heard, and four black and shining faces appeared over the top of the fence, while a guilty eye looked through a knot-hole farther down.

“Has you all seen anything of a low down black pickaninny which is los’?” This remark came from ’Vada.

“Which is stole,” corrected a mountain of flesh, quivering with wrath.

“Is it Samuel Saul?” asked Ethelwyn.

“It is so; will you projus him?” asked the mountain.

“He’s in the attic asleep; his sister sold him to us for a present to Bobby and Nan—­”

“O let’s see him,” cried Nan, with lively interest.

“You all is gwine to leab him alone—­” began the mountain, when Mandy turned ponderously in her direction.

“Will you, Martha Jane Jenkins, please kindly rec’lect dat you is ‘sociatin’ wid quality now, an’ take a good care how you talk, though sholy it may be de fus time dat you has ebber been in good sassity—­”

“Dat is sholy de trufe w’en I has been wid you,” said Martha Jane Jenkins, wrathfully.

But now from the open attic windows were heard such piercing shrieks that they all with one consent turned in that direction.

“Americky, you go bring me you brudda,” instructed Martha, cuffing soundly the girl with the guilty eye.

Presently America and the children returned with the wailing Samuel Saul to the place where Mandy, ’Vada, and Aunt Sophie were standing, loftily ignoring the angry mother and making caustic remarks calculated to add to her discomfort.

In the capacious arms of his mother, Samuel Saul ceased his repining and contentedly gurgled again.  As the united ones went off, Martha Jane Jenkins with her head in the air and America remorsefully weeping in the rear, Ethelwyn said, “Well, our dollar’s gone, and our baby too, and I thought we had made such a bargain.  I don’t know what Mr. Smithers will say.”