"We broke one at Grandma Bell's," said Russ.

"But she didn't make us pay for it," said Laddie.

"Tom Hardy, the hired man, put a new glass in," went on Russ. "And once we broke a window back home when we were playing ball. I threw the ball, and Laddie didn't grab it, and it went through a candy-store window, but we didn't run."

"What did you do?" asked Tom, to whom this seemed something new. He looked up at the place where the window had been smashed. As yet no one had thrust a head out of the window or threatened to send for a policeman. "What did you do?" asked Tom again.

"Well, the lady who owned the candy store knew us," answered Russ, "and she knew our father would pay for the glass."

"Did he?"

"Why, of course he did!" exclaimed Laddie.

"But he said we each had to save up and give him back five cents—a penny at a time," added Russ. "That was to help pay for the glass, and make us—make us more careful, I guess he called it.

"Anyhow, that's what I'm going to do now. We'll wait, and when somebody comes out I'll tell 'em my father'll pay for the glass my top broke."

"Here comes somebody now!" whispered Tom, and surely enough a man, wearing blue overalls and looking as though he had been cleaning out a cellar, came from the basement door of the big apartment house.

"Who broke that glass?" he asked, and his voice was rather harsh.

"I—I did—with my top," spoke up Russ, but his voice trembled a little.

"Well, you'll have to pay for it!" went on the janitor, for such he was. "I've told you boys to keep away from here spinning your tops, and yet you will come! Now you've got to pay for it!"

"I never spun my top here before," said Russ.

"And I didn't either," added Laddie.

"That's right, Mr. Quinn," put in Tom, who seemed to know the janitor. "I brought 'em here. It's part my fault."

"Hum!" said the janitor. "This is something new, to have boys own up to it when they break windows, and not run away. Who did you say was going to pay for the glass?" he asked. "It'll cost about a dollar. Lucky for you Mr. Tanzy wasn't at home. It's in his parlor you broke the window, and he's awful cross."

Russ had thought the janitor himself was cross, at first, but now he did not think so, for the dusty man smiled.

"I'm going to pay for the glass—I am, and my brother," Russ went on. "I broke it."

"Have you got the money with you?" asked Mr. Quinn, the janitor.

"No," answered Russ. "I've only five cents. But you can have that, and my father'll give you the rest when I tell him."

"Who's your father?" asked the janitor.

"They're staying with their Aunt Jo," explained Tom Martin. "She lives on this street—Miss Bunker, you know."

"We're two of the six little Bunkers," said Russ.

"Oh, I'm glad to know that," and Mr. Quinn smiled again. "Well, as it happens, I used to be your aunt's furnace man, so I know her. If you're related to her you must be all right. I'll let you two little Bunkers go now, but your father must come and pay for the window."

"He will," promised Russ, who was glad no policeman had come along, though he had made up his mind to be brave, and not be afraid if one should happen to be called in by the janitor. But none was.

"I'll help pay for the window, too," said Tom. "It was part my fault, 'cause I asked Russ and Laddie to come down here to play tops."

"Good-bye, boys!" the janitor called after them. "I'm sorry you had this accident, but I like the way you acted."

Russ, Laddie and Tom were sorry, too, for they knew their fathers would feel bad, not so much at having to pay out fifty cents each, as because the boys had played tops in a place where they might, almost any time, break a window.

Tom ought to have known better than to go down by the apartment house, for, more than once, he had been told to keep away, but Russ and Laddie had not. However, neither Mr. Martin nor Daddy Bunker scolded very much. They sent the money to the janitor, and told the boys just what Mr. Quinn had told them—to play tops on some other pavement. And this the boys did.

"But we got to have some fun," grumbled Russ.

"Oh, there are lots of other places where you can spin your tops without going down near the apartment house," said Mr. Bunker. "Windows will get broken, once in a while, but I don't like it to happen too often."

"Did you get any answers to the advertisement about the lost pocketbook?" asked Mrs. Bunker of her husband that night, for he had said he would stop at the newspaper office and inquire.

"No," he replied. "I'm afraid whoever owns it does not read the papers. I wish I knew who it was."

"So do I," said Rose.

For, even though she would like to keep the money for herself, she knew it was better that the poor person, whose it was, should have it. But, so far, no one had come to claim the wallet and the sixty-five dollars.

After dinner one day Aunt Jo said:

"Who wants to go on an auto ride?"

"I do!" cried Rose and Violet.

"Me, too!" added Margy, and Mun Bun said something, though they could not be sure just what it was, as he was still chewing on a bit of cracker he had carried from the table with him.

"I guess he means he'll go, too," said his mother. "But after this, Mun Bun, my dear, finish your eating at the table, and don't be dropping cracker crumbs all over Aunt Jo's floor."

"I get Alexis, and he pick 'em up," said Mun Bun; and he started for the door to let in the big dog.

"No, don't!" laughed Aunt Jo. "Alexis has just been given a bath by William, and our dog pet is wet. He'd be worse for the floor than a few crumbs are. I'll have them swept up, Mun Bun. But come, let's get ready for the auto ride."

When the time to go came, Russ and Laddie said they wanted to stay at home. This was unusual. Generally they were the first to want to go.

"Why aren't you coming?" asked Rose of Russ. "Maybe we might find my doll that sailed away with the balloons."

"Oh, I don't guess you will," said Russ.

"Anyhow, Laddie and I are going to make some things when you're gone. We've got to make 'em so we can fly 'em with Tom Martin. He's going to make one, too."

"Will it fly?" asked Rose. "Oh, is it an airship?"

"No, it's just a kite," said Russ. "I started to make one, but I didn't finish. Now I'm going to make a good one so it will fly away up high. And so are Laddie and Tom. That's why we don't want to go in the auto."

"All right, then we'll leave you and Laddie at home with your father and William," said Aunt Jo, for she was going to run the car herself.

"Be good boys," begged Mrs. Bunker.

"We will!" promised Russ.

"And you won't spin tops and break any more windows, will you?" inquired Aunt Jo.

"Nope!" agreed Laddie. "We'll just fly kites, and they can't break windows, or do any thing else."

But you just wait and see what happens.

After Aunt Jo and the others had gone off in the car, Russ and Laddie got their paste, paper and string, and began making kites. Russ knew how pretty well, and he showed Laddie. They made kites with tails on them, as these are easier for small boys to build, though they are not so easy to fly as the kind without tails. The tails of kites get tangled in so many things.

"Now mine's done," said Russ, as he held up his finished toy.

"I wish mine was," replied Laddie.

"I'll help you," offered his brother, and he did.

The two boys were soon ready to go to a vacant lot not far from Aunt Jo's house, to fly their kites.

"A city's no place to fly kites," said Laddie. "We ought to be in the country."

"We ought to be at Grandma Bell's," agreed Russ. "That was a dandy place to fly kites—big fields and no telegraph wires to tangle the tail in."

However, they managed, after some hard work, to get their kites up into the air, and then they sat in the lot, holding the strings and sending up messengers.



CHAPTER XX

THE JUMPING ROPE

"My kite's higher than yours," said Laddie, as he looked at his plaything, away up in the air, and then at his brother's.

"Well, I haven't let out all my string yet," Russ answered. "I can make mine go up a lot higher than yours when I unwind some more cord, and I'm going to."

"I'm going to send up another messenger," said Laddie. "I haven't got any more string to let out, but maybe I could get some."

He took a small piece of paper, put a hole in it, and then slipped through this hole the stick to which his kite cord was tied. Then the piece of paper went sailing up the kite string, twirling around and around until it was half way to the kite itself.

"Look at my messenger go!" cried Laddie, as the piece of paper whirled around and around in a brisk breeze. "Why don't you send up one, and we can have a race?"

"I will!" exclaimed Russ. "We'll have a race with the paper messengers, and then I'll get some more string, and send my kite higher."

"So'll I," decided Laddie. "Oh, Russ, we can even have a race with the kites!" he went on. "We'll see whose kite will go highest."

"Yes, we can do that," agreed the older boy. "Now I'll make a messenger."

So Russ did that, and as the messenger Laddie had put on was, by this time, nearly up to his kite, he put another on the string. The boys held them from going up until both were ready, and then, just as when they sometimes had a foot race, Russ cried:

"Go!"

They took their hands off the paper messengers, and up the strings they shot, the wind blowing them very fast.

"Look at 'em go! Look at 'em!" cried Laddie, dancing about in delight.

"And you'd better look out and not let go of your kite string, or that'll go, too," said Russ. "Your kite'll fly away same as Rose's balloon airship did."

"I wonder if they'd go to the same place," said Laddie. "If my kite would be sure to fly to where Rose let the balloons fly to I'd let it go."

"Why would you?" asked Russ.

"'Cause then I could find Rose's doll for her. I could walk along by my kite string and keep on going and going and going, and then I'd come to the place where the kite was and there would be the basket with the doll in it."

"Yes, that would be nice," said Russ. "But I don't guess they'd go to the same place. You'd better hold on to your kite."

"I will," agreed Laddie. "I wonder how high we could let our kites go up?" he went on, as he watched the messengers whirling around the strings. "How far would they go?"

"They'd go as far as you had cord for," said Russ.

"Could they go away up to the sky?" asked Laddie.

"'Course they could," said Russ.

"The sky's awful far," went on Laddie, looking up at the blue part, across which the white, fleecy clouds were flying.

"Yes, it's far," assented Russ. "But we could get an awful lot of string, and let the kites go up."

"Could we do it now?" the smaller boy wanted to know. "I'd like to see my kite go up to the sky."

"Well, we could do it," Russ said. "But look! My messenger beat yours!" he suddenly cried. "It's away ahead!"

"So it is," assented Laddie. "Well, anyhow, I've got more of 'em up than you have."

"Now I'm going to get a lot of cord and send my kite up high," announced Russ, as he got up from the grass where he was sitting.

"Are you going to take your kite down?" his brother wanted to know.

Russ shook his head.

"I'm going to tie my kite string to a stone," he said. "That'll keep it from blowing away while I go into the house to get more cord. You watch my kite while I'm gone."

"I will," promised Laddie. "I'll tie my kite, too."

Russ tied the end of his cord to a heavy stone in the vacant lot near Aunt Jo's house, in which the boys were flying their kites. Laddie sat down on the grass, and looked up at the kites, which were like two birds, high in the air. Russ was gone some little time. It was harder than he thought it would be to find the right kind of cord. But he had made up his mind to send his kite up in the air as high as it would go, and he wanted plenty of string.

Suddenly Laddie, who was watching his own and his brother's kites, noticed that Russ's was acting very strangely. It bobbed and fluttered about a bit, and then began to sink down.

"I've got to pull on the cord," thought Laddie. Though he was younger than Russ he knew enough for this—when a kite starts to come down, to run with it, or to wind the cord in quickly. There wasn't much room in the vacant city lot to run, so Laddie began winding in the string of Russ's kite.

Then Laddie noticed that his own kite was bobbing about and coming down also.

"Oh, dear!" exclaimed the little boy. "I can't wind 'em both in at once. I wish Russ would come!"

But Russ was still back at Aunt Jo's house, and Laddie, much as he wanted to save his brother's kite, wanted even more to save his own.

So Laddie let go of the string of his brother's kite, and began to pull in on his own. As he did so Russ's sank lower and lower, falling like a leaf, from side to side.

But as Laddie pulled on his cord his kite went higher and higher into the air, until, getting to a place higher up, where the wind was blowing stronger, it was out of danger.

But Russ's kite floated lower and lower, and Laddie dared not let go his own string to pull in his brother's. Just then Russ came running back with the cord he at last had found.

"Where's my kite?" he cried, as he reached the lot, and did not see his kite in the air.

"It started to come down, and so did mine, but I couldn't pull 'em both," said his brother. "I'm sorry, but——"

"Oh, well, maybe I can pull it up," said Russ, who was not going to find fault with Laddie for what could not be helped. "I'll wind up the string as fast as I can."

So he did this, and at last he saw his kite come into sight above the houses in the next street. But the wind, low down, was not strong enough to carry the kite up again, and Russ saw that it was of no use. His kite still fluttered from side to side.

"I can't get it up again this way," he said to Laddie. "I've got to pull it all the way down, and then send it up again. And I'll make it go terrible high this time, 'cause I've got a lot of string."

"When mine comes down I'm going to send it up higher," said Laddie. But his kite was still well up in the air.

Russ pulled and pulled on his string, and finally he had his kite where he could see it. It was floating over the street near the vacant lot, and Russ was pulling it toward him, when, all of a sudden, something happened.

A woman, with a large hat on, was walking along the street, right under Russ's kite. Suddenly the kite swooped down, until the dangling tail touched the woman's hat. Russ, not seeing what had taken place, kept on pulling on the string, winding it in. And, of course, you can easily guess what happened.

"Stop! Stop it, little boy!" called the woman. "Stop pulling on your kite string!"

"What for?" asked Russ, who had been looking at the stick on which he was winding his cord, wondering if it would be large enough to hold it all.

"Because you're pulling off my hat!"

And that is just what Russ was doing. The tail of the kite had become tangled in the trimming on the woman's hat, and Russ was pulling it off her head.

"Oh, please stop, little boy!" she cried, and she had to run along, following the kite across the street.

Then Russ stopped winding the string, and the woman, putting up her hands, took hold of the kite tail, so it did not quite pull off her hat. But it almost did.

"I—I'm sorry," Russ said, as he saw what had happened.

"Oh, that's all right," the woman answered with a laugh. "You couldn't help it. I have a little boy of my own, and he likes to fly his kite, but he never got it tangled in my hat, that I remember. But it's all right. No harm is done. I can pin my hat on again, but my hair is rather mussed up, I'm afraid."

"You could go into my Aunt Jo's house and fix it," said Russ politely. "She has a looking-glass."

"Has she? That's nice," said the lady with another laugh. "But I have a little one of my own. See!" She opened her purse and showed a tiny, round mirror fastened inside. "If you'll hold that up, so I can see myself in it, I can put my hat on again and it will be all right," she went on.

This Russ did. His kite had fallen to the street, but it was not torn and was all right for putting up again. So he held the woman's mirror, which was in her pocketbook, as well as he could, while she smoothed out her hair and straightened her hat. Then, with a smile and a bow, she said:

"There! Is it all right?"

"It looks nice—just like my mother's," answered Russ, and the woman laughed as she took back her purse.

"Did you lose a pocketbook?" asked Russ.

"No," was the answer. "Why do you ask?"

"'Cause my sister Rose found one, and it had some money in, but nobody ever came to get it."

"Well, I hope you can fly your kite again," said the woman, as she walked away.

Russ picked up his kite and went back to the vacant lot with it. He tried to fly it, but the wind had gone down, and the toy would not rise. Laddie's, too, had begun to bob about, and he said:

"I guess I'll pull mine down before it falls."

"Well, we had some fun, anyhow," remarked Russ.

It was the next day, a fine, sunny one, that Rose and Violet, having played with their dolls until they were tired, wanted to do something else. Daddy Bunker had taken Russ and Laddie to a moving picture show, but as Rose and Violet had seen it once, they did not want to go again. Margy and Mun Bun were asleep, and the two girls didn't know what to play.

"I know how to have some fun," said Rose at last.

"How?" asked her sister.

"We can jump rope. I know where there's a piece of clothesline that Aunt Jo'll let us take."

"How can two of us jump rope?" asked Vi. "We'd both have to turn, so who could jump?"

"We can tie one end to a tree, and take turns turning," said Rose. "Then one of us can jump, and whoever misses has to turn for the other."

"Oh, yes, we can do it that way," assented Vi. So the two little girls ran to get the clothesline and soon they were jumping rope.

"It's lots of fun," said Vi, when it was her turn to have "three slow—pepper," while Rose turned, the other end of the rope being fast to a tree.



CHAPTER XXI

MUN BUN IN A HOLE

While Rose turned, Vi jumped, and the little girl was getting along nicely when she tripped, or the rope caught on her foot, and stopped.

"Now it's my turn!" exclaimed Rose. "You missed, and you have to turn for me."

"You made me trip!" exclaimed Vi. "You gave me the pepper before I was ready."

"You said to give you 'three slow—pepper,' and I did," declared Rose.

I suppose you girls who jump rope know what "three slow—pepper" means, but the boys probably will not, so I'll explain.

The person who is turning the rope for the other to jump, turns it very slowly for three times. Then she turns it fast. Jumping fast is called jumping "pepper," and sometimes jumping slow is called "salt." And I have heard some little girls, when they were jumping rope, call for "mustard and vinegar." But that is very fast indeed—too fast for little girls, I should think. Rose and Vi never jumped faster than pepper.

"Yes, I know I said 'three slow—pepper,'" admitted Vi. "But I didn't want you to give me such fast pepper."

"Oh, well, try it again," said Rose, good-naturedly. "I won't go so fast the next time."

So she began turning the rope again, and Vi started to jump. This time all went well, and Vi, when it came to the "pepper" part, did so well and kept it up so long that Rose at last cried, with a laugh:

"Oh, my arm is tired! Let me rest, Vi!"

"I will," said the little girl. "I'm tired, too. After I rest a minute I'll turn for you."

They sat on the grass under the trees for a while, and then began taking turns jumping again.

"Now let's try a new way," suggested Rose after a bit. "We'll see how high we can jump over the rope."

So they began this game, and pretty soon some little girls from the house across the street came out to play with Rose and Vi. They were from a family that Aunt Jo knew, and had played with the little Bunkers before.

The children had lots of fun, skipping rope, and seeing who could jump the highest. Rose was best at this, though Mabel Potter, one of the little girls from across the street, jumped nearly as high.

"Now let's go and play with our dolls again," suggested Vi. "Can you come over to our Aunt Jo's house, and sit on her porch?" she asked Mabel, Florence and Sallie, the other little girls.

They said they could, and they were just starting to get their dolls when along came a boy with a basket of groceries on his arm. He had got out of a delivery wagon down the street, and was bringing some things to Aunt Jo. The boy had often called with groceries before, and Rose and Vi knew him. His name was Henry Jones.

"Hello, little girls!" called Henry, for he was older than any of them. "What you doin'?"

"Seeing who can jump highest," answered Rose.

"I can jump higher'n any of you!" boasted Henry. "Want to see me?"

"Well, you ought to jump higher—you're bigger'n we are," said Mabel.

"Well, I'll jump and keep on holding my basket," offered the grocery boy. "That'll make it harder for me. Go on! Hold the rope up real high and I'll jump over it."

"Maybe you might spill the things in your basket," suggested Rose.

"No, I won't. I'm a good jumper," said Henry. "Hold the rope up real high."

Rose took hold of one end of the rope and Mabel the other. They held it across the sidewalk as high up as their own waists.

"Higher!" ordered Henry.

They raised it a little.

"There! That's high enough!" said the grocery boy. "Now you watch me sail over that. I'll show you some jumpin'!"

Henry, still holding his basket of groceries, stood on the sidewalk, a little way back from the rope. Then he took a run and started toward it. Up into the air he jumped, but something sad happened.

Whether Henry did not spring up high enough, or whether one of the girls raised the end of the rope when she ought not to have done so, no one ever knew.

But what happened was that Henry's feet became entangled in the cord, and down he fell, luckily on the grass at one side of the pavement, and not on the sidewalk stones, or he might have been hurt.

He sat right down flat, and his basket bounced off his arm, and a lot of groceries spilled out of it.

"Oh, did you hurt yourself?" asked Rose.

Henry was too much surprised, for a moment, to speak. He looked as if he did not know what had happened. Then he slowly got up.

"No, I didn't hurt myself," he answered. "But I guess I can't jump as high as I thought I could. But I'm going to try it again."

"Oh, you'd better not," Mabel said. "You might break some more eggs."

"I didn't break any eggs!" declared Henry.

"Yes, you did! Look at that bag," said Rose, and she pointed to one that had bounced from the basket, together with other bags and bundles. From this bag something yellow was running on the grass.

"Oh, dear! I guess I did bust some eggs!" exclaimed the grocery boy. "Your aunt'll be awful mad!" he went on. "I wish I hadn't jumped the rope."

Henry picked up the bag of eggs and looked inside.

"Only one's busted," he said, "and that's just partly cracked. I'll hurry into the house with it and she can put it in a dish and save it. 'Tisn't cracked very much."

"That's good," said Rose. "Parker is going to bake a cake, I heard her say, so she'll need some eggs right away, and she can use the cracked one first."

"I'm glad of that," observed Henry.

Then he hurried into Aunt Jo's house with the eggs and other groceries, and when he came out—not having been scolded a bit—the girls had gone with their jumping-rope, so Henry didn't have another chance to take a tumble.

On the shady porch of Aunt Jo's house Rose, Vi and their three little girl friends played with their dolls. They were having lots of fun, undressing and dressing them, sending them on "visits," one to another, and having play-parties.

"Do you like it here?" asked Mabel of Rose.

"Oh, yes, lots," was the answer. "We've had just the loveliest summer. First, we were at Grandma Bell's, and now we're at Aunt Jo's, and maybe we'll go to Cousin Tom's at the seashore before we go back home."

"You've got lots of relations, haven't you?" asked Sallie.

"Oh, that's only part of 'em," Rose went on. "We've got more," and she mentioned them.

Vi was putting her doll to sleep on a bed of grass made in a corner of the porch, when a door slammed and the sound of running feet was heard.

"Hush! Don't make so much noise!" exclaimed Violet in a whisper. "My doll's asleep."

"It's Margy and Mun Bun," said Rose, as the two smallest Bunkers came racing around the corner of the porch. "They're my little sister and brother," Rose explained to the other girls. "They've just had a nap, so they feel like playing now."

"Can we have some fun?" asked Margy.

"We want lots of fun!" added Mun Bun.

"Oh, dear! They'll wake up my doll!" whispered Vi. "Can't you two go away and play somewhere else?"

"Here. I'll let 'em take these marbles," said Mabel. "They're my little brother's. He gave me his bag to hold when he went off to play tops with some of the boys. I'll let Margy and Mun Bun take the marbles to play with."

"That'll be nice," said Rose. "Run along, Mun Bun and Margy, and play marbles."

This just suited the younger children. Down off the porch they ran, and soon the others could hear them laughing and shouting. But pretty soon Margy came running back.

"Come an' get Mun Bun," she said to Rose. "He's got his head in, an' he can't get it out."

"Got his head in where?" asked Rose.

"In a hole," answered Margy quite calmly.



CHAPTER XXII

OUT TO NANTASKET BEACH

When Margy told Rose about Mun Bun being down in a hole, Mabel, Florence and Sallie looked much more frightened than the little girl who had come running to the porch with the news. Indeed, Margy did not seem frightened at all; but, of course, Mun Bun could not stay always with his head in a hole, so she had come to tell some one to get him out.

"What kind of a hole is he in?" asked Mabel.

"Can't he ever get out?" Florence inquired.

"I don't know," answered Margy. "It's a funny hole. It's in the yard, and Mun Bun's head is away down in it. I can't see his head, but his legs are stickin' out."

"Mother! Mother!" cried Rose, running into the house, where Mrs. Bunker was sitting in the sewing-room with Aunt Jo. "Oh, Mother! Mun Bun——"

Rose had to stop, for she was out of breath.

"What's he been doing now?" asked Mrs. Bunker. Then she saw Rose's face, and added: "Oh, has anything happened?" and she hurried over to Rose.

"Margy says his head is in a hole in the yard, and that his legs are sticking out," went on the little girl. "Mun Bun and Margy went out to play marbles an'——"

But Mrs. Bunker did not stop to hear. Followed by Aunt Jo, out she rushed to the yard, and there she saw a strange sight. In the middle of the lawn Mun Bun seemed to be kneeling down. But the funny part of it was that his head did not show. And yet it wasn't so funny either, just then, though they all laughed about it afterward.

"Oh, what has happened to him?" cried Mrs. Bunker as she rushed across the grass. Aunt Jo was beside her, and Rose, Vi, Margy and the three other girls followed.

"Mun Bun! Mun Bun!" called his mother, as she came closer to him. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, my head's in a hole! It's in a hole, and I can't get it out!" sobbed the little fellow. And, just as Margy had said, his voice did sound strange—as if it came from the cellar.

"Don't be afraid. I see what has happened," said Aunt Jo. "Mun Bun isn't hurt, and I can get him out of the hole."

"And can you get his head out, too?" asked Vi.

"Oh, yes, his head and—everything," said Aunt Jo. "I see what he has done. He has taken the cover off the lawn-drain, and stuck his head down in it, though why he did it I don't know."

"He's trying to get some of our marbles," explained Margy, as Aunt Jo and Mother Bunker hurried to the side of Mun Bun. "The marbles rolled down the hole in the yard and Mun Bun said he could get 'em back. So he stuck down his head, and now he can't get it up."

"I wonder why?" said Mother Bunker.

"It's on account of his ears," said Aunt Jo, who had her hands on the head of Mun Bun now. "They stick out so they catch on the side and edges of the hole. But I'll hold them back for him."

She slipped her thin fingers down into the hole, on either side of Mun Bun's head. Then she raised up his head, and out of the hole it came.

Mun Bun's face was very red—standing on his head as he had been almost doing, had sent the blood there. His face was red, and it was dirty, for he had been crying.

"Now you're all right!" said Aunt Jo, kissing him.

"Don't cry any more!" went on Mother Bunker, as she clasped the little boy in her arms. Mun Bun soon stopped sobbing.

"I see how it all happened," went on Aunt Jo. "In the middle of my lawn is a drain-pipe to let the water run off when too much of it rains down. Over the hole in the pipe is an iron grating, like a big coffee strainer. This strainer keeps the leaves, sticks and stones out of the pipe. But the holes are large enough for marbles to roll down, I suppose."

"Some of my marbles rolled down the holes, and so did some of Margy's," explained Mun Bun. "That is, they wasn't our marbles, but she let us take 'em," and he pointed to Mabel. "And when they rolled down in the little holes I wanted to get 'em back. So I put my head down to look and I couldn't get up again."

"But if the holes were only large enough to let marbles roll through, I don't see how Mun Bun could get his head down them," said Mrs. Bunker.

"Oh, but he lifted off the iron grating of the pipe, and put his head right down in the pipe itself," said Aunt Jo. "The iron grating is made to lift up, so the pipe can be cleaned. I suppose Mun Bun found it loose, lifted it up, stuck his head down, and then the edge of the strainer-holder held his ears, so he couldn't get loose. I pushed his ears in close to the sides of his head, and then he was all right."

And that is just the way it happened. Mun Bun, when he saw the marbles roll down into the drain-pipe, wanted to get them back. He could easily lift up the grating, but when his head was in he could not so easily get it out again. So he yelled and cried, and Margy heard him and went for help, which was a good thing.

"Well, you're all right now, but don't ever do anything like that again," said Aunt Jo.

"I won't," promised Mun Bun, as his mother carried him to the house to be washed and combed. "But I wanted the marbles, and they're down the pipe yet. I couldn't get 'em."

"Never mind," said Mabel. "My brother has lots more. He won't care about losing a few."

And he did not, so Mun Bun had all his trouble for nothing, not even getting back the marbles. But it taught him never to put his head in a hole unless he was sure he could get it out.

When Russ and Laddie came home from the moving picture show, they heard all about what had happened to their little brother.

"Let's go out and look at the hole," suggested Laddie.

"All right," agreed Russ. "I knew it was there, 'cause the last time it rained I saw water running into it. But I didn't know the iron grating lifted up."

For several days after that the six little Bunkers had lots of fun at Aunt Jo's. They played all sorts of games, and had rides on the roller-skate wagon Russ had made, as well as in the express wagon, pulled by Alexis, the big dog.

They went out to Bunker Hill monument, where they were told something about what had happened when the men of the colonies fought that these United States might become a free nation.

"Daddy," asked Vi very seriously, "didn't they name this monument after you?"

"How could they?" broke in Russ. "This monument was put up years and years before Daddy was born."

"Well, maybe they named it after his great, great, I don't know how many great grandfathers," put in Laddie.

"No, it wasn't named after any one in our family," answered Daddy Bunker.

The father also took the children out to the Charlestown Navy Yard, and told them something about the navy and how our fighting men of the sea helped to keep us a great and free people.

And then, one day, Russ saw his mother and father and Aunt Jo looking over some papers and small books. Russ knew what they were—time tables, to tell when trains and boats leave and arrive. He had seen them at his father's real estate office, and also at the house in Pineville just before the family started for Grandma Bell's.

"Oh, are we going home?" asked Russ, his voice showing the sadness he felt at such a thing happening.

"Going home? What makes you think that?" asked his father.

"Indeed, I hope you're not going home for a good while yet," said Aunt Jo. "It hardly seems a week since you came."

"Well, I'm glad you have enjoyed us," said Mother Bunker.

"But are we going home?" persisted Russ.

"No, not yet," answered his father. "You think because we are looking at time tables we are going to leave. Well, we are, but we are only going on an excursion, or picnic."

"Where?" asked Russ, and once more he felt happy.

"Out to Nantasket Beach," said Aunt Jo. "That's a nice trip by boat. It takes about an hour and a half from Boston, and we are looking to see what time the boats sail and come back."

"Oh, are we coming back?" asked Russ.

"Yes. We can only spend the day there," said his mother. "But Aunt Jo says it is very nice. It's a sort of picnic ground, with all sorts of things at which you can have fun. There are merry-go-rounds and roller-coasters. And you can have nice things to eat, and can play in the sand near the ocean."

"Oh, that'll be fun!" cried Russ. "When are we going?"

"To-morrow," answered Aunt Jo.

Russ jumped up and down, he was so happy, and ran out to tell the other little Bunkers.

And the next day they all went out to Nantasket Beach. While they were there something very strange and wonderful happened, and I'll tell you all about it.



CHAPTER XXIII

THE MERRY-GO-ROUND

"Oh, look over here!"

"See this funny boat!"

"Look, Daddy! What's that man doing?"

"Oh, I hear some music!"

These were some of the things the six little Bunkers said and shouted as they were on the boat going to Nantasket Beach. The day was a fine, sunny one, and they had started early in the morning to have as long a time as possible at the playground, for that is what Nantasket Beach really is.

Russ and Rose, Violet and Laddie, and Margy and Mun Bun ran here and there on the boat, finding different things to look at and wonder over on the vessel itself, or in the waters across which they were steaming.

Mother and Daddy Bunker sat with Aunt Jo in a shady place on deck, and watched the children at their play.

Russ and Laddie and the two older girls were standing near the rail, toward the front, or bow, of the boat, and they had to hold their hats on to keep them from being blown away.

"I would like a kite here," Laddie said. Then he watched some boats moving back and forth in the water, big ones and little ones, and, suddenly turning to his brother, said:

"I've got a new riddle."

"What is it?" Russ asked. "I can guess it."

"Nope! You can't!" Laddie went on. "And it's an easy one, too."

"Go on and tell it!" exclaimed Russ. "I know I can guess it."

"Why is this boat like a duck?" asked Laddie. "Now, you can't answer that."

"I can so!" cried Russ, as he thought for a moment. "That's easy. This boat is like a duck 'cause it goes in water."

"Nope!" said Laddie, shaking his head with vigor.

"It is so!" cried Russ. "I'm going to ask Mother."

The two boys went in search of their mother, leaving Rose and Vi up in front.

"What is it now?" Mrs. Bunker wanted to know, as the two boys ran up to her.

"Laddie made up a riddle about 'why this boat is like a duck,' and when I told him 'cause it goes in water like a duck, he says that isn't the answer. It is, isn't it?"

"That isn't the answer I mean!" exclaimed Laddie, before his mother had a chance to speak.

"Well, I suppose Laddie can pick out the one answer he wants to his own riddles, if he makes them up," said Mrs. Bunker to the two boys.

"I have an answer," said Laddie, "and Russ didn't guess it right."

"Give me another chance," pleaded the older boy. "I know why the boat is like a duck—'cause it swims in water! That's it!"

"Nope!" said Laddie again, shaking his head harder than before.

"Then there isn't any answer!" declared Russ.

"Yes, there is, too," insisted Laddie. "I'll tell you. This boat is like a duck because it paddles! See? A duck paddles its feet in water and this boat paddles its wheels in water. I saw the paddle-wheels when we came on board."

"Huh!" exclaimed Russ. "I could have thought of that if you'd given me one more turn."

"Isn't that a good riddle?" demanded Laddie, smiling.

"Pretty good," admitted Russ. "I'm going to think up one now, and I'm sure there can't anybody answer it. You wait!" and he went off by himself to think up his riddle.

Margy and Mun Bun, after running about a bit, had heard some music being played on board, and had teased their mother to take them to hear it. This Mrs. Bunker was glad to do, as it gave her a chance to sit quietly with the smaller children.

Across the waters steamed the boat, and Russ finally gave up trying to think of a hard riddle, and walked here and there with Laddie, finally getting to a place where they could watch the engines.

Russ did not find it as easy to think up a hard riddle as he had thought he would, but he said he was going to try after they got back to Aunt Jo's house.

"'Cause," he said, "there's so much to see now that I don't want to miss any of it."

It was a ride of about an hour and a half from Boston to Nantasket Beach, and that pleasure spot was reached long enough before noon for the children to play about and have fun before lunch.

They had brought some things to eat with them, but Daddy Bunker said they would also have something to eat at a restaurant. It was a good thing Mrs. Bunker and Aunt Jo did provide sandwiches, for the children were hungry as soon as they left the boat and insisted on eating.

And then the fun began. There was plenty to do at Nantasket Beach, smooth slides to coast down on, funny tricks that could be played, and phonographs that one could listen to by putting the ends of rubber tubes in the ears after having dropped a penny in the machine. There were moving pictures and other things to enjoy.



Best of all the children liked the merry-go-rounds, and they had so many rides on the prancing horses, the lions, the tigers, the ostriches and the other animals and birds that Daddy Bunker said:

"My! I'm afraid we'll all go to the poorhouse if I spend all my pennies."

"You can take some of the sixty-five dollars I found in the pocketbook," said Rose.

"No," and her father shook his head. "We mustn't touch that money yet. I haven't given up the hope of finding who owns it, though it certainly takes them a long while to find out about it. But there must be something wrong. Either they have not seen our advertisements, or they have gone far away."

"Can't we ever spend any of the money?" asked Russ.

"Well, maybe, some day, if we don't find the owner," said his father.

The children went in bathing, and then had lunch at an open-air restaurant. And such appetites as they had! The salt air seemed to make them hungry, even if they had eaten the sandwiches brought from home.

"Now I want some more rides on the merry-go-round," said Margy, after they had taken in some other amusements. "I want to ride on the rooster this time. He's bigger than the rooster at Grandma Bell's, but he's nice and red."

Among the creatures in the merry-go-round machine was a big, wooden rooster, painted red, with his beak open just as if he were going to crow. Margy had ridden on a horse and on a lion, and now she wanted the rooster.

"Well, you may have just one more ride," said her mother. "But don't tease for any more."

"Why not?" Margy wanted to know.

"Because it might make you ill, my dear," said Mrs. Bunker. "Too much riding, when you go around in a circle that way, may upset your stomach. One ride more will be enough, I think."

Margy agreed to be content with one, but when that was over she had enjoyed it so much that she teased and begged for just one more.

"Oh, let her have it, Mother!" suggested Rose. "We'd all like another ride. And I'll sit beside Margy in one of the seats, and then maybe it won't make her sick."

Margy didn't look ill, and she seemed to be enjoying herself.

"Well, this is a sort of play-day," said Daddy Bunker, "and I want you children to have a good time. I don't suppose one more ride will do any harm," he said to his wife. "And, I'll try to keep out of the poorhouse until we can use the sixty-five dollars in the pocketbook Rose found," and he laughed.

"Well, if you say it's all right I suppose it is," agreed his wife. "But this is, positively, the last ride!"

So the children got their tickets, and Margy and Rose took their seats in a little make-believe chariot, drawn by a green camel.

The music began to play, the merry-go-round began to turn and once more the children were having a good time. In chairs near the big machine Daddy and Mother Bunker and Aunt Jo waved to the children each time they came around.

The turn was almost over when Mrs. Bunker happened to see Margy leaning up against Rose. And the mother noticed that her littlest girl's face was very white. Rose, too, seemed frightened.

"Oh, I'm sure Margy is ill!" cried Mrs. Bunker. "She has ridden too much! Oh, Charles! Have them stop the machine!"

"It's stopping now," he said. He, too, had noticed the paleness of Margy's face.

Slowly the merry-go-round came to a stop, but even before it had altogether ceased moving Daddy Bunker had jumped on and hurried to where Rose sat holding Margy.

"Oh, Daddy!" exclaimed Rose, "she says she feels terribly bad."

"What's the matter with Daddy's little girl?" asked Mr. Bunker, as he took Margy in his arms and started to get off the machine. "Did you become frightened?"

"Oh, no! No, Daddy!" answered Margy in a weak voice. "But I feel funny right here," and she put her hand on her stomach. "And my head hurts and I feel dizzy—and—and——"

Then poor little Margy's head fell back and her eyes closed. She was too ill to talk any more.



CHAPTER XXIV

ROSE FINDS HER DOLL

"Take her out in the air," said one of the men in charge of the merry-go-round, as he saw Mr. Bunker carrying Margy across the floor. "They often feel a bit faint from riding too much, or from the motion. The air makes 'em all right. Take her right down to the beach. That would be best, I think."

"I will," said Mr. Bunker.

Tenderly he looked down at the little white face on his arm. Mrs. Bunker and Aunt Jo looked worried, as they hurried after Mr. Bunker, and Rose and Russ, who, with Violet, Mun Bun and Laddie had gotten off the merry-go-round, followed through the crowd.

"What's the matter? What is it? Was any one hurt?" asked several persons.

"No, it's only a little girl sort of fainted," a policeman said, and that was really what had happened to Margy.

"The fresh air down by the beach will bring her around all right," said the man who had first spoken to Mr. Bunker. "I'll look around for a doctor, if you like."

"Oh, I don't think she is as badly off as that," replied Margy's father. "As you say, the fresh air will bring her around."

So the six little Bunkers, with Margy being carried by her daddy, went down near the water. The merry-go-round was not far from the bathing pavilion where they had left their clothes when they went in swimming during the morning.

At the cashier's desk was a young lady, who gave out the tickets and took charge of watches, jewelry, money and other things that the bathing-folk left with her for safe-keeping. This young lady cashier saw Margy being carried by Mr. Bunker, and called to him:

"Bring the little girl up here. She can lie down on a bench in the shade, and feel the fresh ocean air. That will be better than having her out in the sun."

"Indeed it will," said Mrs. Bunker. "Thank you very much."

With some dry bathing-suits and towels, the girl kindly made a sort of bed on a bench for Margy, and there the little girl was tenderly put to rest by her father. Then he looked carefully at her, and listened to the beating of her heart.

"She'll be all right in a little while," he said. "If I could get her a glass of cold water——"

"I'll get you one," offered the bathing cashier. "We have some ice water inside."

"You are very kind," said Mrs. Bunker. "We went in bathing from this place not very long ago, but I did not see you here then."

"No, I come only in the afternoons," said the girl. "Another girl and I take turns, as the work is pretty hard on a hot day when lots of folks go in swimming."

She brought the water for Margy, and then the little girl opened her eyes and looked about her.

"Take a drink," said her mother. "Do you feel better now?"

"Yes," said Margy. "I'm all right. I felt awful funny," she said, and she smiled a little. Her cheeks were not so pale now, and she tried to sit up.

"Better lie down a bit yet," said Daddy Bunker. "Then you'll feel a lot better. Next time you mustn't ride so much on the merry-go-round. Too many trips are not good for any one."

In a short time Margy felt so much better that she could sit up. The cashier came back from her place at the window to ask how the little girl was feeling, and she seemed glad when told that Margy was better.

Russ, Rose and the other children had been asked to stay outside and play in the sand, but now, having been told by Aunt Jo that Margy was nearly recovered, they came in the bathing pavilion office to look at their little sister. Just at this time there were not many people wanting bathing-suits, so the cashier who had been so kind was not very busy.

As Rose and the others stood looking at Margy, and also at the cashier, Vi suddenly exclaimed:

"Why, I know her!"

"Who?" asked Mrs. Bunker.

"Her," went on Vi. She pointed to the cashier. "She found me the day I was lost, when I went after the loaf of bread and I went down the wrong street and I couldn't find Aunt Jo's house. She found the right street for me. I know her—her name's Mary!"

The cashier turned to look at Violet.

"Oh, now I remember you!" she exclaimed. "Yes, I did see you crying on the street in the Back Bay section of Boston one day. I remember now. I could tell where you lived because my mother used to sew in that neighborhood, and I had seen the big dog at your aunt's house. So you got home all right, did you?"

"Yes, she came just as I was starting out to look for her," said Daddy Bunker. "We often wondered who had been so kind as to show Violet the right way, but all she could tell was that it was a girl named 'Mary'. I often thought I'd like to see her, and thank her for being so kind to our little girl, but, only knowing your first name——"

"My name is Mary Turner," said the girl. "I live in Boston, though not at Back Bay, but I come over here every day on the boat to work."

"Do you like it?" asked Aunt Jo.

"Yes, it is very pleasant, and not too hard. I like the smell of the salt water. I'd be near the ocean all the while if I could. But we can't have all we want," and she smiled. "Shall I get you some more cold water?" she asked Margy.

"Yes, please," answered the little girl. "I feel a lot better now."

"That's good," said Mary Turner, as she went to the water-cooler.

"Wasn't it funny I should see her again?" said Violet. "She was awful nice to me when I was lost."

"She seems like a very nice girl," said Mrs. Bunker, "and she is certainly very kind to us. I'm glad we met her."

Mary came back with more water for Margy, who was now able to walk around, the feeling of illness having passed.

"I want to go down and play in the sand," she said.

"Better not go out in the hot sun right away," advised Aunt Jo. "Stay in the shade a bit, Margy."

"Yes," urged Mary Turner. "Come and see my queer little office, where I sit all day and hand out tickets and take in gold watches and diamond rings and things like that."

"Do you keep 'em?" asked Russ.

"Oh, no! The people who go in bathing leave them with me for safety. I have to give them back when they hand me the check I give them. I keep each person's things separately in little pigeonholes, and there is a man on guard there, too,—a sort of policeman."

"Are there any pigeons in the pigeonholes?" asked Vi.

"Oh, no!" laughed Mary. "They just call them pigeonholes because they are like the openings that pigeons go in and out of at barns, and such places, I suppose. They are like the boxes in a post office, only larger. Come, I'll show them to you."

As this would keep Margy in the shade a while longer, Mrs. Bunker said the children could go with Mary and look at her "office."

"My daddy's got an office," said Rose. "It's a real estate office."

"Well, mine is different from that," Mary said.

They went with her to look. As it was rather soon after the dinner hour, not many persons were in bathing, and the compartments or "pigeonholes" were not all filled. In some, however, were the envelopes in which people sealed their watches, rings and other valuables.

The six little Bunkers were quite pleased at seeing Mary Turner's office, and the "policeman" who was on guard so no one would come in and take the envelopes.

"Did some one leave that when they went in bathing?" asked Mr. Bunker with a smile, as he pointed to something in one of the pigeonholes.

"Oh, no," answered Mary with a smile. "That's mine. It's a doll, and I brought it with me to-day, thinking I would have time to make a new dress for it, and give it to a little girl I know. I don't play with dolls any more, though I used to like them very much, and I still like to make dresses for them. But I've been rather busy this morning, helping Mr. Barton, who owns the bathing pavilion, so I didn't get time to do any sewing."

As she spoke she took down the doll, and held it out for Margy and the others to see. And, as Rose looked at it, she exclaimed:

"Oh, look! Why—why, that's Lily! That's my doll that went up in the airship! That's Lily!"

"It can't be, Rose!" said her mother.

"Yes, it is!" insisted the little girl, as she took the doll from her sister's hand. "Look! Don't you 'member where there was a cut in her and her sawdust insides ran out and Aunt Jo sewed up the place with red thread?" and Rose turned the doll over and showed where, surely enough, the doll was sewed with red thread.

"Is that really your doll?" asked Mary, and there was a queer look on her face.

"It really is," said Rose Bunker. "I sent her up in a basket and there was a lot of balloons tied to it. I called it an airship and it got loose and Lily went away up in the sky, and I couldn't get her down."

"I said she'd come down," cried Russ, "'cause I knew the balloons couldn't stay up forever. But we looked for the doll and couldn't find her."

"Did she drop out of the airship?" asked Rose eagerly.

"No, she came down with the 'airship,' as you call it," went on the bathing-pavilion cashier. "She was in a basket when I found her. And tied to the basket were some toy balloons. A few of them had burst, and the gas had come out of the others, so that they were all flabby and wouldn't keep the airship up any more. Then it came down, and it happened to land right in the back yard of the place where I board, in Boston.

"I saw it in the morning, when I went out to feed the pet cat, and I brought the doll in. She was all wet, and her dress had come off. But I carried her into the house and I've kept her ever since. I've been intending to dress her and give her to a little girl, but I'm glad you have her back," and she smiled at Rose.

"Oh, isn't it just wonderful!" cried the little girl. "To think I have my own darling Lily back after her going up in the airship!"



CHAPTER XXV

THE POCKETBOOK OWNER

Indeed it was quite strange and wonderful, as they all agreed, that Rose's doll had been found in such a curious way. Rose, herself, was very happy, for, though the doll was not her "best" one, she liked it very much indeed, and had felt sad at losing Lily.

"I'm glad the airship came down at your house," said Rose to Mary.

"And I'm glad I found her for you," said the cashier.

"'Cause," remarked Vi, "she might have fallen in a house where there was a puppy dog, and he'd have bitten her and torn her dress. I wonder where her dress went."

"Oh, I guess the wind blew it off," said Russ. "The wind is awful strong up high in the air. Once it busted one of my kites."

"I guess that's how it happened," said Daddy Bunker. "The toy balloons must have gone up very high, carrying your doll along, Rose."

"No. Lily didn't have on a dress that day. I was in an awful hurry, an' I just wrapped a handkerchief around her. That blew away, I guess."

By this time Margy was feeling all right again, and after a little more talk with Mary, the six little Bunkers went out to play on the sandy beach, Rose carrying her doll.

"Oh, it's lovely at Nantasket Beach!" said Russ, as he and Laddie ran about and waded in the shallow water. "Thank you, Aunt Jo, for bringing us here."

"Oh, I'm enjoying it as much as you children are," said Daddy's sister.

But all things must come to an end, even picnics, and when the six little Bunkers had done about everything they wanted to at the pleasure resort it was time to take the boat back for Boston.

On board, after the children and the grown folks were seated, Vi saw her friend Mary Turner.

"There's the girl that found me when I was lost, and the one that had Rose's doll," said Vi, pointing.

"Oh, so it is!" exclaimed Mrs. Bunker. "Don't you want to come over and sit by us?" she asked the bathing-pavilion girl.

"Yes, I should like to," was the answer. "It's lonesome riding home alone."

"Where do you live in Boston?" asked Mrs. Bunker, as Mary sat down near her and the children, who were too tired with their fun to romp around much.

"I board down near where I can get this steamer easily," was the answer. "I have a pass on the boat, and by walking to the dock I save carfare. And these days one has to save all one can," she added.

"You say you board," put in Aunt Jo. "Have you no relatives?"

"Oh, yes, I have a brother and a mother, but Mother is ill in the hospital," was the answer.

"That's too bad," said the ladies, who felt quite sorry for Mary.

Then they talked about different things until, at dusk, the boat landed at the wharf, and the six little Bunkers and all the other passengers got off. Rose whispered something to her mother, who looked a little surprised and then spoke to Aunt Jo.

"Why, yes, I'd be delighted to have her," was the low answer, for Mary was walking on ahead, with Russ and Laddie.

"Rose thinks it would be nice to ask Mary to come to supper with us," said Mrs. Bunker to her husband. "Aunt Jo says that she is willing."

"Of course we'll ask her!" said Mr. Bunker kindly, and when Mary was told about the plan she smiled and said she would be glad to come. So to Aunt Jo's nice home they all went, and Parker had a fine supper soon ready for them, even though she didn't expect company.

After the supper, which Mary seemed to enjoy very much, saying it was much nicer than at her boarding-house, she and the six little Bunkers sat on the porch and talked. Mary told about the funny things which sometimes happened at the bathing-beach.

"Well, I'm glad we went there to-day," said Rose. "If we hadn't I'd never have found my airship doll."

"You were very lucky," said Laddie.

"Yes," added Russ. "I wish I had such good luck as Rose. She found her doll and she found a pocketbook."

"Oh, I didn't tell you about that!" exclaimed Rose to Mary. "I really did find a pocketbook in the street, about two weeks ago, and it had a lot of money in it."

"Did it?" asked the bathing-beach girl, and she seemed interested more than usual.

"Oh, a lot of money," went on Rose. "Please, Daddy, can't I show Mary the pocketbook I found?" she asked, for Miss Turner had told the children to call her by her first name. "I want to show her the pocketbook I picked up," went on the little girl.

"All right, you may," said Mr. Bunker. "I'll get it for you," and he brought it from the house.

"There it is!" cried Rose. "Wasn't I lucky to pick that up?"

"Indeed you were," said Mary Turner, and then, as she caught sight of the wallet in Mr. Bunker's hand she exclaimed:

"Why, there it is! There's the very one! Oh, to think that you have it!"

"Do you know whose this is?" asked Mr. Bunker. "Ever since my little girl found the wallet we've been trying to find the owner, but we haven't been able to."

"That's my mother's pocketbook!" cried Mary. "And it's on account of that she's in the hospital, and ill. Oh, how wonderful!"

"Is this really your mother's purse?" asked Mr. Bunker.

"It surely is," answered the bathing-beach girl. "She had just sixty-five dollars in it."

"That's just how much was in this!" exclaimed Russ.

"And besides," went on Mary, "I know the pocketbook. It has a little tear in one corner, and the clasp is bent."

"That's right," said Mr. Bunker.

"And," went on Mary, "besides the sixty-five dollars there was a funny Chinese coin with a square hole in the middle. Did you find that in the purse?"

"Yes," exclaimed Aunt Jo, "there was a Chinese coin in the pocketbook! That proves it must be your mother's pocketbook."

"I'm sure of it," said Mary. "Oh, how glad she'll be that it is found, and the money, too. That is—if we can have it back," she said softly.

"Have it back? Of course you may!" cried Mr. Bunker. "If it is your mother's we want you to have it. Was there anything else in the purse when your mother lost it?"

"Yes," Mary said, "there was a letter from my brother, but part of it was torn off," and she spoke of what the note had in it. Then they were all sure it was Mrs. Turner's purse.

The letter, from which the lower part had been torn, was from Mary's brother John. He was a soldier in the army. His mother had written, telling him that her brother, Mary and John's "Uncle Jack," had sent the money to her, and that she was going to spend it in trying to get a rest of a month, as she was very tired from overwork.

But the pocketbook had been lost by Mrs. Turner, and, as Mary said, it made her mother ill, so she had had to go to the hospital.

But through the good luck of Rose everything had come out all right, for Mary felt that the news of the recovery of the money would take the worry from Mrs. Turner's mind, thus making it easier to regain her health.

"You found my doll," exclaimed Rose, "and I found your pocketbook! We are both lucky!"

"Indeed we are," said Mary, smiling, as she took the wallet from Mr. Bunker. "Oh, but Mother will be happy, now!" went on the girl.

"Mother had been overworking, for we are poor and she had had us two children to bring up, as my father is dead. She was on her way to see about going away for a time to get a good rest, now that John and I are old enough to look out for ourselves, when she lost the purse and the sixty-five dollars.

"She felt so bad about it, when she couldn't find it, that she was made ill, and had to be taken to a hospital. We did not tell my brother, as we did not want to worry him. But I know this good news will make Mother better.

"I walked all around the streets near where she thought she had lost her purse, but I couldn't find it."

"Didn't you read the lost and found advertisements?" asked Mr. Bunker. "We advertised the finding of the pocketbook in the papers."

"No, I was so worried about Mother that I never thought to," was the answer. "And when I had her taken to the hospital, and found a boarding-place for myself, and went to work at Nantasket Beach, I thought there was no use to look. I never expected to get the money back."

"But you did, and I'm glad I found it," said Rose.

They were all glad. Mr. Bunker took Mary that very night to the hospital where her mother was, and the good news so cheered Mrs. Turner that the doctor said she would soon get better, and, after a while, entirely well. That is what good news sometimes does.

But the good luck of the Turners did not end with the getting back of the lost pocketbook. Aunt Jo became interested in the little family, and promised to give Mrs. Turner plenty of work to do at sewing as soon as she was well. And a better place was found for Mary to work, where she would not have to take the long trip back and forth from Nantasket Beach.

So many good things came about just because Rose saw the pocketbook and picked it up.

And now my story is nearly done. Not that the six little Bunkers did not have more fun at Aunt Jo's, for they did, but I have not room for any more about them in this book.

"But do we have to go home right away?" asked Russ, when he heard his father and mother talking of packing up a few days later.

"Oh, no," was the answer. "We have a letter from another of our relatives, asking us to come to see him before we go back to Pineville, and I think we'll accept."

"Where is it?" asked Rose.

"Down at the seashore," answered her father. "Don't you remember?" And what next happened to the children will be told in the book after this, to be called, "Six Little Bunkers at Cousin Tom's."

It was a beautifully sunshiny day. Out on the lawn Russ and Laddie were playing with the hose.

"Mother, make Russ stop!" suddenly Laddie cried.

"What's he doing?" asked Mrs. Bunker, who could see that not very much was happening.

"He's squirting water on me from the hose."

"I am not, Mother," said Russ, laughing. "I'm only making believe Laddie is in bathing down at Cousin Tom's at the seashore, and when you go in swimming you've got to get a little wet!"

"Oh, well, if you're making believe play that, all right," said Laddie, "wet me some more."

Russ did. So, at their play, we will take leave, for a time, of the six little Bunkers, wishing them well.

THE END



THE BUNNY BROWN SERIES

By LAURA LEE HOPE

* * * * *

Author of the Popular "Bobbsey Twins" Books

Wrapper and text illustrations drawn by

FLORENCE ENGLAND NOSWORTHY

* * * * *

12mo. BOUND IN CLOTH. ILLUSTRATED. UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING.

* * * * *

This new series by the author of the "Bobbsey Twins" Books will be eagerly welcomed by the little folks from about five to ten years of age. Their eyes will fairly dance with delight at the lively doings of inquisitive little Bunny Brown and his cunning, trustful sister Sue.

BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE

Bunny was a lively little boy, very inquisitive. When he did anything, Sue followed his leadership. They had many adventures, some comical in the extreme.

BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE ON GRANDPA'S FARM

How the youngsters journeyed to the farm in an auto, and what good times followed, is realistically told.

BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE PLAYING CIRCUS

First the children gave a little affair, but when they obtained an old army tent the show was truly grand.

BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT CAMP REST-A-WHILE

The family go into camp on the edge of a beautiful lake, and Bunny and his sister have more good times and some adventures.

BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT AUNT LU'S CITY HOME

The city proved a wonderful place to the little folks. They took in all the sights and helped a colored girl who had run away from home.

* * * * *

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK



THE BOBBSEY TWINS BOOKS

For Little Men and Women

By LAURA LEE HOPE

Author of "The Bunny Brown" Series, Etc.

* * * * *

12mo. BOUND IN CLOTH. ILLUSTRATED. UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING.

* * * * *

Copyright publications which cannot be obtained elsewhere. Books that charm the hearts of the little ones, and of which they never tire. Many of the adventures are comical in the extreme, and all the accidents that ordinarily happen to youthful personages happened to these many-sided little mortals. Their haps and mishaps make decidedly entertaining reading.

THE BOBBSEY TWINS

THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE COUNTRY

THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT THE SEASHORE

THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SCHOOL

Telling how they go home from the seashore; went to school and were promoted, and of their many trials and tribulations.

THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SNOW LODGE

Telling of the winter holidays, and of the many fine times and adventures the twins had at a winter lodge in the big woods.

THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON A HOUSEBOAT

Mr. Bobbsey obtains a houseboat, and the whole family go off on a tour.

THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT MEADOW BROOK

The young folks visit the farm again and have plenty of good times and several adventures.

THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT HOME

The twins get into all sorts of trouble—and out again—also bring aid to a poor family.

* * * * *

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK



THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH SERIES

By GERTRUDE W. MORRISON

* * * * *

12mo. BOUND IN CLOTH. ILLUSTRATED. UNIFORM STYLE OF BINDING.

* * * * *

Here is a series full of the spirit of high school life of to-day. The girls are real flesh-and-blood characters, and we follow them with interest in school and out. There are many contested matches on track and field, and on the water, as well as doings in the classroom and on the school stage. There is plenty of fun and excitement, all clean, pure and wholesome.

THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH Or Rivals for all Honors.

A stirring tale of high school life, full of fan, with a touch of mystery and a strange initiation.

THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH ON LAKE LUNA Or The Crew That Won.

Telling of water sports and fun galore, and of fine times in camp.

THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH AT BASKETBALL Or The Great Gymnasium Mystery.

Here we have a number of thrilling contests at basketball and in addition, the solving of a mystery which had bothered the high school authorities for a long while.

THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH ON THE STAGE Or The Play That Took the Prize.

How the girls went in for theatricals and how one of them wrote a play which afterward was made over for the professional stage and brought in some much-needed money.

THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH ON TRACK AND FIELD Or The Girl Champions of the School League

This story takes in high school athletics in their most approved and up-to-date fashion. Full of fun and excitement.

THE GIRLS OF CENTRAL HIGH IN CAMP Or The Old Professor's Secret.

The girls went camping on Acorn Island and had a delightful time at boating, swimming and picnic parties.

* * * * *

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK



THE OUTDOOR CHUMS SERIES

By CAPTAIN QUINCY ALLEN

The outdoor chums are four wide-awake lads, sons of wealthy men of a small city located on a lake. The boys love outdoor life, and are greatly interested in hunting, fishing, and picture taking. They have motor cycles, motor boats, canoes, etc., and during their vacations go everywhere and have all sorts of thrilling adventures. The stories give full directions for camping out, how to fish, how to hunt wild animals and prepare the skins for stuffing, how to manage a canoe, how to swim, etc. Full of the spirit of outdoor life.

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS Or The First Tour of the Rod, Gun and Camera Club.

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE LAKE Or Lively Adventures on Wildcat Island.

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS IN THE FOREST Or Laying the Ghost of Oak Ridge.

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON THE GULF Or Rescuing the Lost Balloonists.

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS AFTER BIG GAME Or Perilous Adventures in the Wilderness.

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS ON A HOUSEBOAT Or The Rivals of the Mississippi.

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS IN THE BIG WOODS Or The Rival Hunters at Lumber Run.

THE OUTDOOR CHUMS AT CABIN POINT Or The Golden Cup Mystery.

12mo. Averaging 240 pages. Illustrated. Handsomely bound in Cloth.

* * * * *

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK

* * * * *

Transcriber's Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

Page 36, "ate" changed to "mate". (asked the mate)

Page 69, "some some" changed to "some". (here is some sort of a paper)

Page 159, "It" changed to "Is". (Is this your)

Page 215, "h" changed to "his". (had all his)

Page 241, "abont" changed to "about". (was told about)

THE END