"Aunt Minneha-ha! Aunt Minneha-_haaa_!" they bawled. And she, luckily, did hear them. She came out of her house, Tarrigo barking beside her, and glanced to and fro, searching for the source of the yells. "Up here, Aunt Minnehaha, up here in Judge Chater's house!" Mrs. Cheever settled her spectacles on her nose and peered up at them. "So _that's_ where you are! Well, I declare! Your parents are worried to death, boys, and my brother has gone off in the Machine to search for you. You had better come down at once!" "But we _can't_, Aunt Minnehaha!" And they explained the matter to her. "Ma-a-a-a!" contributed Uncle Sam, as he joined them at the window and looked out, with his beard draped over the sill. "Meet our roommate," Tom said, and Mrs. Cheever laughed and laughed. "So that's where _he_ is. My brother will be relieved to know--and here he comes right now, thank fortune!" But then, as luck would have it, Mr. Payton had no ladder tall enough--Judge Chater's taste had run to lofty ceilings--so Mr. Caduggan had to be fetched with his. And even after the boys were safely on the ground, poor Uncle Sam remained aloft, bleating wistfully, for though goats are very good at climbing cliffs, they are very poor at climbing ladders, particularly _down_. In the end, Mr. Caduggan had to improvise a sort of hammock and, with the aid of a couple of friends, got Uncle Sam into the thing and lowered him from a window. One of the friends, who had thoughtfully brought a camera along, took a picture of the majestic descent and turned it over to the _Pork Ferry Sentinel_, which printed it, subsequently, with a complete account of the situation. So that any element of secrecy for which the boys had hoped lay shattered in a thousand pieces. "You can't get away with anything in this life," Julian remarked gloomily. "At least _I_ can't." He and Tom had been roundly scolded: by their parents, by their employers, by the girls. The little boys, however, showed the proper perspective and regarded them as heroes. And Joe was deeply envious. "Here I just simply went to bed, just for a little cat-nap, all dressed and everything," he told them. "I even took the alarm clock with me to make certain. I stuffed it in between two pillows, right under my ear (because I didn't want my folks to know, _you_ know), and then what did I do! When the doggone clock went off, I just reached in and shut it off! In my _sleep_ I mean! How about that! To think you can double-cross yourself like that, in your own sleep!" * * * * * "I think I'll stay mad at them another day," Portia said. "It's getting hard to do it; I keep forgetting, but I'm going to try." "All right, then I will, too," Lucy said cheerfully. "Madame Vavasour says Librans are apt to be too kind-hearted for their own good."