Winkler drove out the strange dog, closed the door, and then coaxed
Wango down from the high shelf.

"Did he do any damage, Mrs. Golden?" asked the old sailor. "If my monkey
did any damage I'll pay for it."

"No, he didn't do any harm," she answered. "He just startled us all a
little."

"Wango's a good monkey, but he will run away," said Mr. Winkler, petting
his furry companion. "I'm glad he didn't do any damage. My sister said
he'd be sure to this time, but I'm glad he didn't."

"He's a good climber," said Sue. "If you had a monkey, Mrs. Golden, he
could reach things down from the high shelves for you, when your son
goes off after leg-legacies."

"I'm afraid, dearie, that a monkey would be more bother than he was
worth to me, just to lift things down off high shelves," laughed the old
lady. "Wango is a lively chap, though."

"What's this about a legacy?" asked Mr. Winkler, for he was an old
friend of Mrs. Golden.

"I don't count much on it," she answered. "Philip has gone to see about
it. I got word that an uncle of mine had died and left some money and
property. We may get a share of it and we may not."

"I hope you do!" exclaimed Mr. Winkler. "I most certainly hope you do!"