“Hello!” he cried, sitting up in bed. “What the mischief are you up to?”
In response there came a gibbering chatter as the dark form made for the window, trailing Lambert’s pants.
“Drop them, you fiend,” shouted Lambert, recognizing the gray whiskered monkey of the buttress. “If that’s the way you repay me for my bazaar candy, I’ll teach you—”
As the monkey leaped for the window, Lambert sprang from the bed and made a grab for his pants. The monkey backed for the window and Lambert seized a chair as the most handy weapon. He brought it down with a crash where the monkey ought to have been, but was not. The monkey gave an extra pull, two buttons shot to the floor, and he went out of the window with Lambert’s suspenders. Lambert did not pause to hurl anathema, because he realized at once the serious nature of his loss. The market of Aurungnugur did not traffic in suspenders, and his only pair had been burglared by a monkey. There was nothing humorous in the situation to Lambert, rather it presented all the elements of an outrage. He darted up the flight of brick stairs to the roof and made for the buttress, on which he could just see vaguely the gray whiskered monkey discussing the loot with his family.
“Give them up, you thief,” he threatened, “or when I catch you there’ll be trouble.”
But either the monkey did not understand or felt secure from intimidation. In any case being a holy animal he was not accustomed to rough treatment. So as the monkey displayed no sign of repentance, Lambert felt it best to change his policy. He wondered
