A few minutes later Juggie exclaimed to the disconsolate circle, "Dar's de
organ-grinder."

It was indeed he hurrying along the lane and turning a troubled face
toward the barn, for no monkey came with him. Had he lost his friend from
the far South?

"He gone!" said the grinder, as he reached the boys. "You sheen him?"

"Seen your monkey?" asked Sid.

"Yes, yes! You sheen my leetle mun-kee?"

"Why, no."

"You--you--you," and the grinder swept the circle to find out if any one
had seen the lost favorite. No one had seen him.

"O, O dear!" lamented the grinder excitedly.

Poor organ-grinder! his face was wrinkled as badly as that of his missing
assistant when attempting to pick a very bad nut.

"You go--find--my--mun-kee?"

"O, yes," said the president, "we will hunt. Come on."

They scattered, tumbling over fences, climbing shed roofs, diving into
corners, shouting, yelling, and stirring up the neighborhood thoroughly.
It did no good. "My munkee" refused to be found.