That was exactly what had happened this glorious July morning, when Mrs. Owen, missing her boy’s shouts from the front garden, ran out to the door, her bare arms all white with flour, for she had been making a cake, and called "Harold, Harold, Harold!" so loud that you might have heard her half-way down to the wharves. If, indeed, she could have been heard all the way down, perhaps her call might have brought Harold back; and in that case he should not have got his lasting impression, and I would have had no story to tell. But just at this time our little man was altogether too much taken up with what Jack Hardie was telling him to hear anything less noisy than a steam-engine. "I’ll bet my boots, Hal, you never saw such a funny little chap in your life. He is about as big as our baby, but nothing like so fat, and he has long hair all over him—over his face too—and he jumps around, and talks away at the fellows, and sits up on his hind legs to eat nuts and crackers. Oh, I tell you he’s lots of fun!" [Illustration: RESCUER AND RESCUED.—_See page_ 183.] This was part of Jack’s account of a very interesting monkey belonging to the black cook of a large ship then at the wharf; and it was the promise of showing him this monkey—what eight-year-old boy could resist such a temptation?—that had lured Hal away from home. Down to the wharf they ran as fast as their legs could carry them, and there they found half-a-dozen other youngsters much about their own age, all evidently bent on the same errand. The stately _Roseneath_ lay right across the end of the wharf, and was being fed with long, yellow, sweet-smelling deals that would make houses in England some day. The boys stood for a while watching the huge planks sliding through the bow-ports into the dark mysterious hold, and then there was a general rush for the stern, where they expected to find the rope-ladder by which they would climb on board. But, much to their disappointment, no ladder could they see, and no way of climbing up except a thick rope that dangled over the side, reaching quite down to the wharf; the truth of the matter being that the sailors, getting rather tired of the boys’ frequent invasions, had taken away the ladder and put the rope in its place, thinking thus to put a stop to their coming on board. The tide was high, and the great black hull of the ship towered above the wharf like the side of a house. The boys looked pretty blank at first; but then you know it takes a good deal to stop an enterprising boy when his heart is set on anything; and presently, after a little talk together, Jack Hardie said he would see if he couldn’t shin up the rope. So he clasped the rope tight in his brown fists, twined his strong legs around it, and up he went, not very fast, to be sure, but gaining a bit at every wriggle, until at last he reached the bulwarks, and the boys gave him a cheer as he called out, "Come along, fellows; it’s not so hard; you can all do it." Frank