Six little Bunkers at Grandma Bell's

LADDIE AND THE SUGAR

"Oh! Oh, Margy!" cried Mrs. Bunker.

"Oh, the poor little dear!" exclaimed Grandma Bell. "The old ram has seen her red coat and doesn't like it! I must get her away."

"I'll help!" cried Mother Bunker. Meanwhile they were both running toward Margy, where she stood with her back turned toward the ram, picking flowers.

"You had better leave the old ram to me. I know how to drive him off," said Grandma Bell. "You take the children, Amy, and get on the other side of the fence. It isn't far," and she pointed to the fence ahead of them.

"Won't the ram hurt you?" asked Rose, who had taken Mun Bun and Violet by their hands to lead them along.

Mrs. Bunker knew that Grandma Bell knew a lot about farm animals. So, calling to Violet, Mun Bun and Rose, and seeing that Russ and Laddie were on the way to the fence, Mrs. Bunker followed the two boys.

"I could throw stones at the ram," said Russ.

"So could I," added his brother. "Let's go do it!"

"No. You do as grandma told you, and get on the other side of the fence," said his mother. "Grandma Bell can take care of the ram."

The ram, which had big, curving horns, walked toward Margy, now and then stopping to stamp his foot or give a loud:

"Baa-a-a-a!"

"What's he saying?" asked Vi.

"I guess the ram's saying he doesn't like red coats," put in Russ.

They were soon at the fence and out of any danger from the ram. Grandma Bell was now close to Margy, who had stopped picking flowers, and was looking at the animal with his shaggy coat of wool and his big, curved horns.

"Come to me, Margy!" cried her grandmother, and Margy ran, and was soon clasped in Mrs. Bell's arms.

"Baa-a-a-a!" bleated the old ram, again stamping his foot, as he shook his lowered head.

"Oh, he's going to bunk right into Grandma Bell!" cried Laddie, on the safe side of the fence.

"I'll go back and help her drive the ram off," said Mother Bunker. "You children stay here."

"Will the old ram-sheep come and get us?" asked Vi.

"No, he can't get through the fence," her mother answered after a look around. "Don't be afraid."

"I must cover your red coat up with my apron, and then the ram can't see it," said Grandma Bell. "It's the red color he doesn't like."

"'Cause why?" asked Margy.

"I don't know why—any more than I know why turkey gobblers and bulls don't like red," answered her grandmother. "But we had better get out of this meadow. I didn't know the ram was so saucy, or we should have gone around another way."

"Will he bite us?" Margy went on.

"Oh, no. He may try to hit us with his head. But that won't hurt much, as his horns are curved, and not sharp. Go on back, Bunko!" called Grandma Bell to the ram, Bunko was his name. "Go on back!"

"Go on, Mother!" called Mrs. Bunker to Grandma Bell. "You take Margy to the fence and I'll throw clumps of dirt at the ram."

This she did, hitting the ram on the head with soft clods of earth, while Grandma Bell hurried to the fence with Margy.

"There we are!" cried the grandmother, as she set the little girl safely down on the far side, away from the ram. "Now Bunko can't get us."

"Baa-a-a-a!" bleated Bunko. He shook his big, curved horns at Mrs. Bunker, but he did not try to run at her and strike her with his head. Perhaps he felt that, as long as the little girl with the red coat had gone out of his meadow, everything was quite all right again.

"Well, that was quite an adventure," said Mother Bunker, as they were all together again, and on their way to the strawberry hill. "Did the ram ever chase you before, Mother?"

"I picked some flowers," said the little girl, "but I dropped 'em when you carried me, Grandma."

"Never mind. We can get more," returned Mrs. Bell.

On they went to the place where the wild strawberries grew. They brushed aside the green leaves, and saw the fruit gleaming red underneath. They filled little baskets with the berries, though I think the children ate more than they put in the baskets.

"The old ram wouldn't like it here," said Russ, as he popped a berry into his own mouth.

"Why not?" asked Vi.

"'Cause there's so much red here. He wouldn't like it at all."

The children had lots of fun on the warm, sunny hillside, picking the sweet, red, wild strawberries, but if Daddy Bunker had had to depend on the six little Bunkers to bring him home some of the fruit he would have got very few berries, I'm afraid. For the children ate more than they picked. But then, one could hardly blame them, as the strawberries were good.

However, Grandma Bell and Mother Bunker saved some for daddy, so he had a chance to taste them, and he ate them at supper that night as he listened to the story of the ram and Margy's red coat.

The next day, as Laddie, Russ and Rose were out in front of Grandma Bell's house, playing under the trees, they saw a farmer going down the road with a box under his arm.

"Do you suppose he's going after strawberries?" asked Rose.

"If he is we'd better tell him to look out for the old ram," remarked Laddie.

"I will," said Russ. And then he called out loudly:

"Look out for what?"

"For the old ram. He chased my grandma and my sister Margy yesterday," went on Russ. "But Margy had a red coat on."

"Well, I haven't anything red on," the farmer said with a laugh. "But I'm much obliged to you for telling me. And, as it happens, I'm going right where that old ram is."

"Oh, aren't you 'fraid?" asked Laddie.

"No," answered the farmer. "The ram will be glad to see me. You see, I'm taking him and the sheep some salt," and he showed the children that he had salt in the box under his arm. "I'm going to give my cattle some salt," went on the farmer, "and Mr. Hixon, who owns the sheep, asked me to salt them, too. So I'm going to. The ram will be so glad to see me with the salt that he won't hurt me at all."

"It's funny sheep like salt," said Laddie.

"It is. But they do," said the farmer, as he went on down the road.

"Come on, Laddie!" he called. "Let's go to the lake to sail the boat."

"Laddie went in the house," said Rose. "I'll find him then," returned Russ, and into the house he went, calling:

"Laddie! Laddie! Where are you? Come on and help me sail the boat!"

"Laddie was here a minute ago," said Jane, the hired girl, when Russ reached the kitchen in his search. "He asked me to give him some sugar in a cup."

"What'd he want of sugar?" asked Russ.

"I don't know," answered Jane. "But I gave him some and he went out in a hurry."

"Maybe he's going to make candy," said Russ.

"No, I don't believe so. He'd have to cook sugar on a fire to make candy, and you know your grandmother or your mother wouldn't let you play with fire."

DOWN IN THE WELL

Russ went out of the kitchen and looked all around the house for his brother Laddie. He did not see the little fellow, but, on the side steps he saw some white grains of sugar, and Russ could follow them a little way. The trail led down across the brook and toward the meadow.

"He went this way," Russ thought to himself, "and he had the sugar with him. Maybe he's going out to the woods to feed the birds. Or maybe he's going to have a play party with Rose and the others. I'll find 'em and have some fun myself."

But Laddie was not with the other little Bunkers, for Russ saw Rose, Vi, Margy and Mun Bun playing under one of the trees.

"No," Rose answered, "I didn't look for him."

"I saw him," said Tom, the hired man. "He went over that way," and he pointed across the brook.

"Do you mean over to Strawberry Hill?" asked Russ, for so they had come to call the place where the wild red berries grew.

"Well, yes, I s'pose you might say towards Strawberry Hill," replied Tom.

Across the brook hurried Russ, and, a little way ahead of him, he saw his brother.

"Hi, Laddie!" he called. "Wait for me! Where are you going?"

Laddie waited, and Russ soon caught up to him. But Laddie did not at once answer his older brother's question. So Russ asked again:

"Where are you going?" Then, before Laddie had a chance to say anything, Russ went on: "I know! You're going to pick wild strawberries, and put sugar on 'em."

"No, I'm not," returned Laddie slowly. "I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to give some sugar to the sheep."

"'Cause they don't like salt, I guess," answered Laddie. "I don't like salt, and I don't guess a sheep does. The farmer said he was going to give salt to the sheep, but they must like sugar better. So I got Jane to give me some, and I'm going to take it to the sheep."

"I'll help you take it," said Russ. "I should think sheep would like sugar better than salt."

Together the two little boys kept on over the meadow until they came to the field where the sheep were grazing. There were quite a number of them.

"What'll we do if the old ram runs at us?" asked Russ, as he and Laddie crawled under the fence.

"He won't run at us," said the smaller boy, who seemed to have thought it all out. "We haven't got anything red on, and he only runs at you if you have red on. Anyhow, if he does, we can give him some sugar and that will make him like us."

"Yes, I guess it will," agreed Russ.

"Here they come!" exclaimed Russ. "Get the sugar ready, Laddie. And there comes the old ram over from the other side of the field. Save some sugar for him."

"I will," Laddie said. Then he poured some of the sugar out from the bag on the ground, and the sheep began to nibble at it.

I am not sure whether sheep like sugar better than salt or not. I should think they might, and yet salt on some things is better than sugar would be. I wouldn't like my roast chicken with sugar on it, but I do like it with salt. Anyhow, the sheep licked up the sugar that Laddie sprinkled on the grass for them.

"They like it lots better'n salt!" said Laddie.

"Sure they do!" agreed Russ. "We'll bring more sugar, and we'll tell Mr. Hixon about it. I guess he'd like to give his sheep the things they like best. They like 'em to grow good and fat."

The boys were so interested watching the sheep eat the sugar, that they forgot all about the ram that had seemed so angry because of Margy's red coat. The first they knew was when they heard a loud:

"Baa-a-a-a-a!"

Then they heard a pounding of hoofs on the ground and the ram came running at them.

"Oh, look!" cried Russ. "Here he comes! We'd better get on the other side of the fence! Come on, Laddie!"

"I'm coming!" answered the little fellow. "Hurry!"

"It—it's too bad we didn't save him some sugar," panted Russ, as he and Laddie ran on. "Maybe that's what makes him mad at us."

The ram was, indeed, running faster than the boys, and only that they had a start of him he would have caught them before they got to the fence, and then he might have butted them with his head.

But, as it was, Russ reached the fence first. He turned to wait for Laddie, who was a little behind him.

"And if that old ram had hurt you I'd 'a' thrown stones at him," said Russ afterward. But Laddie, with an extra burst of speed, managed to get to the fence, and Russ helped him through. The ram was so close that his head struck the rails with a bang.

"It's a good thing it wasn't us he hit," said Russ, as they found themselves safe on the other side.

"That's right," agreed Laddie. "He's terrible mad 'cause we didn't save him any sugar. I was going to, but it all spilled."

I don't really believe the ram was angry at Russ and Laddie for not giving him sugar. I think the leader of the flock thought perhaps the boys might be troubling the sheep, and wanted to drive them from the field. That's just what he did, anyhow—drive them from the field.

For a little while the boys stood watching the sheep. Those that had come to eat the sugar seemed to have licked up all there was on the grass, and they came with the others, to stand behind the ram, near the fence. They all looked at the boys.

"I guess they like us," said Laddie.

"All but the ram," said Russ. "And I don't like him."

"Neither do I," agreed his brother.

"Well, come on," said Russ, after a bit. "We can't have any fun here. Let's go and sail the boat I made. I was looking for you when Jane said she gave you the sugar. I couldn't think what you were going to do."

The boys went back to the house and got the new sailboat Russ had made. Going down to the sandy shore of the lake with it, they found Rose and Violet sitting in the shade, playing with their dolls.

"Oh, I know what we can do!" exclaimed Russ, who was carrying the boat.

"What?" asked his brother.

"We can take the dolls—those Rose and Vi have—and give 'em a ride on the boat."

"Give Rose and Vi a ride on the boat?" asked Laddie, who had not been listening very closely. "It isn't big enough."

"'Course 'tisn't!" agreed Russ. "I don't mean that. I mean give the dolls a ride."

"Oh, yes, we can do that!" cried Laddie. "It'll be fun! Will you let us?" he called to the two little girls.

"Let you what?" asked Rose.

"Let us give your dolls a ride on the boat?"

"Oh, yes! Let's give our dolls a ride!" cried Vi.

"You can give yours a ride, but I'm not," declared Rose.

"Why?" Russ wanted to know.

"'Cause she might fall off into the water."

"I can put a stone on her so she won't fall off the boat," said Russ.

"Huh! Think I'm going to let you put a stone on my doll? I will not!" Rose exclaimed.

"I could tie her on," suggested Laddie. "I've a piece of string."

"Well, maybe that's all right," Rose agreed, and then she and Violet let Russ and Laddie take the dolls, which they tied on the sailboat. Then along in the little sheltered cove of the lake the boat sailed, giving the dolls a ride.

"Oh, your doll will be drowned!" cried Rose.

"No, she can't drown! She's rubber," answered Vi. "I'll just play she had a bath in the lake."

"Well, it's a good thing it was your doll and not mine, that fell in," went on Rose, "'cause my doll's a sawdust one—this one is. But I have a rubber doll up at the house, a nice one.

"Go and get her!" suggested Russ. "Then I can sail the boat in deeper water and it won't hurt if it tips over with two rubber dolls on."

So Rose got her other doll, and then the children had fun sailing the boat with two make-believe passengers, who did not mind how wet they got. If the boat didn't tip over of itself, Russ or Laddie made it, just to see the dolls go splashing into the water.

"You mustn't do it again," their father said. "Not only that it isn't good to waste sugar by giving it to the sheep, but the old ram might hurt you. Don't do it again."

The boys promised they wouldn't, and then Rose and Vi told of their fun with the rubber dolls and the boat.

In the afternoon, when Mrs. Bunker and Grandma Bell were getting ready to go for a walk with the children, Russ came running up to the house, from down near the barn, crying:

"Oh, Rose! Margy took your rubber doll, and now she's down in the well! She's down in the well!"

"Oh, mercy sakes!" cried Grandma Bell, who heard what Russ said. "Is Margy in the well or the doll?"

THE DOG-CART

Mrs. Bunker saw Grandma Bell hurrying down toward the barn, halfway between which and the house, was the well, and at once the children's mother began to fear that something was wrong.

"Has anything happened?" asked Mrs. Bunker.

"I'm afraid there has," answered Grandma Bell. "Russ came running up to the house, and said something about a doll having fallen into the well. Then he grabbed up the rake and ran back before I could ask him what he meant."

"Oh, I do hope none of the children will try to get it out!" cried Mrs. Bunker.

"What has happened?" demanded Mrs. Bunker.

"It's all right—don't be frightened," her husband told her, as he looked around. "It's only a doll that has fallen into the well. I'm trying to get it out with the rake."

"Only a doll—that isn't so bad," said Mrs. Bunker. "Whose doll is it?"

"Mine," answered Rose. She and the other children now stood about the well house. "Margy took it, Russ says, and dropped it into the water."

"I was givin' the dollie a bath," Margy explained. "The other dolls had a ride on Laddie's boat, and they felled in the water and had a nice swim, but this doll didn't have any and I was givin' her one."

"Oh, but you shouldn't have done that without asking mother," said Mrs. Bunker. "And besides, I've told you to keep away from the well. You might fall in."

"Can you get it out?" asked Mrs. Bunker.

"I think so," answered her husband. "The doll is caught on one of the buckets, halfway down the well. I sent Russ up to get the rake, for I'm afraid If I pull up the bucket the doll will drop off and fall to the bottom of the well."

All watched Daddy fishing for the doll. The rake was not quite long enough, but by fastening a stick onto the handle it could be reached down far enough so the iron teeth caught in the doll's dress, and up she came.

"Why—why!" exclaimed Margy, "she isn't wet at all."

"No," said Daddy Bunker, "she didn't get down to the water. If she had I don't believe I could have gotten her up, as the well is very deep. But don't do it again, Margy."

Rose took the doll, whose dress had been torn a little by the rake.

"I'll make believe she's had a terrible time and been sick," said the little girl, "and I'll give her bread pills."

"What are we going to do?" asked Russ.

"We are going after berries," his mother told him.

"Strawberries?" cried Laddie.

"Not this time," said Grandma Bell. "This time we are going to gather huckleberries."

"Then you must be going to bake huckleberry pies!" exclaimed Daddy Bunker.

"Well, I'll bake some if the children don't eat more berries than they put in the pails and baskets," said Grandma Bell, with a funny twinkle in her eyes.

"We won't eat very many," promised Russ. "We'll pick a lot of berries for the pies, won't we, Laddie?"

"Sure we will!"

Off to the place where the huckleberries grew went the six little Bunkers, with their mother and their grandmother.

But the six little Bunkers were really very good. Of course, I'm not saying they didn't eat some berries. You'd do that yourself, when they grew on bushes all around you. But the children put into the pails and baskets so many that Grandma Bell said there would be a big pie for daddy, and several smaller ones for the children.

As the little party of berry pickers came back from the fields late that afternoon, Russ and Laddie, walking ahead, saw Zip, the dog, dragging along a piece of rope, fastened to a heavy bit of log.

"He's terrible strong, Zip is," said Laddie. "Look at him pull that log."

"Yes, he is strong," agreed Russ. And then he suddenly cried: "Oh, I know what we can do!"

"What?" asked Laddie, always ready for anything.

"How can we do it?" asked Laddie.

"Well, you just take an old box—we saw some of the kind I want down at the grocery store—and you put wheels on it."

"Where are you going to get the wheels?" asked Laddie.

Russ had to stop and think about that part. Then he happened to remember that he had seen two wheels from an old baby carriage out in the barn. Grandma Bell had once had a woman working for her who had a little baby, and this woman had kept the carriage at the Bell farmhouse. But after a while it broke, or wore out, and when the woman and her baby went away there were only two wheels of the carriage left.

"We can take them," said Russ, "and maybe we can find two more somewhere. We'll ask daddy or grandma."

"Say, it'll be lots of fun if we can make a dog-cart!" cried Laddie. "Could we really ride in it, do you s'pose?"

The boys took hold of the rope and tried to hold back on it. But Zip was so strong that he dragged them along a little way, as well as the log. And Zip growled and snarled, pretending he was very angry.

"Look out!" cried Mother Bunker. "He might bite you!"

"Zip is only playing," said Grandma Bell. "He never bites. But what are you doing?" she asked Russ and Laddie.

"We're trying how hard Zip can pull, to see if he can pull us when we make a dog-cart," explained Russ.

"Please, Grandma, may we?" asked Laddie. "And may we have the two old baby carriage wheels out in the barn?"

"Yes, certainly," his grandmother said. "But I don't know where there are any more wheels. You'll have to get along with two."

"Well, we could do that," Russ said. "But four would be better. Oh, Laddie! We'll have a lot of fun making the dog-cart!"

RUSS HEARS NEWS

When Daddy Bunker heard about the plan of Russ and Laddie to make a dog-cart, he at first thought the boys could not do it.

"How are you going to harness Zip to the cart?" he asked.

"Oh, we can do it," declared Russ. "We can make a harness out of pieces of rope and some straps in the barn. And we can get a box and put some wheels on it for a cart. It'll be easy."

"But maybe Zip won't let himself be hitched up," said Daddy Bunker. He wanted the boys to have fun while at Grandma Bell's, but he did not want them to go to a lot of work making something, and then be disappointed if it did not work.

"Did he? Hurray! Then he'll pull us!" shouted Laddie.

As soon as Russ and Laddie got back to Grandma Bell's house they began to look for things of which to make the dog-cart and the harness. Two wheels were all they could find, but Daddy Bunker thought they would answer very nicely.

"I'll help you make the harness," said Tom Hardy. "I guess there are enough odd straps around the barn to make a harness for two dogs."

Russ and Laddie were glad to hear Tom say this. They felt that making the harness would be the hardest part of the work. The cart would be easier; at least so they hoped.

From the grocery store, down at the "Four Corners," where Grandma Bell traded, the boys, the next day, got a fine large soap box. It was quite strong, too.

Tom helped the boys fasten the old baby carriage wheels to the box, and also helped them make a pair of shafts, just like those in between which a horse trots, only, of course, the ones for Zip were smaller. The hired man was as good as his word in the matter of a harness, and soon everything was in readiness for the first ride.

"The only thing I'm afraid of," said Mother Bunker, "is that Zip won't let himself be harnessed. He may not like it."

But the big dog did not seem to mind in the least. He came when Russ called him, and he wagged his tail when the boys showed him the soap-box cart and the harness.

"Now we're going to have some fun when you give us a ride!" said Russ, patting Zip's shaggy head.

"Bow-wow!" barked the dog, as much as to say:

"That's right! We'll have fun!"

"Oh, it's nice! I like it!" cried Mun Bun, when he saw the home-made dog-cart with the baby carriage wheels. "I want a ride now."

"So do I," added Margy, who never liked to be left, out of anything in which her smaller brother had a share.

"You little folks had better not get in until Russ and Laddie try it," said Mr. Bunker "And they had better keep on the soft grass when they start to drive Zip."

"Why should we stay on the grass?" asked Laddie.

"So if you fall out of the cart you won't get hurt," his father answered with a merry laugh.

"Oh, we won't fall out," declared Russ. "The cart is big enough for two of us."

"Get in now, and let's see how you go," said Daddy Bunker. He was holding Zip by part of the harness that went around the dog's head. To this, which was a sort of muzzle, there were fastened two pieces of real horse reins, and by these Zip's head could be pulled to the left or the right, according to which way the little drivers wanted him to go.

"He guides just like a real horse or a boat," said Laddie. Of course there was no bit in Zip's mouth, as there is in the mouth of a horse, for dogs have to keep their mouth open so much, to cool off when they are hot, that a bit would be in the way.

In the soap box Laddie and Russ took their places. Daddy Bunker handed them the lines and let go of the dog's head.

"Gid-dap!" called Russ.

"Go fast!" ordered Laddie.

"Hold tight and don't get spilled out!" begged Mother Bunker.

"We will!" promised Laddie.

Away trotted the dog, pulling after him the cart with the two boys in it. Over the grass he went, and when Russ saw that the dog seemed to know just what to do, and didn't show any signs of wanting to turn around and upset the cart, Russ turned his steed toward the path.

"We can go faster here, where it isn't so soft," he said.

And Zip did pull the cart along at good speed. Around and around on the gravel paths he pulled the boys, and he seemed to be having as much fun from it as they were.

"He goes very nicely," said Daddy Bunker, smiling.

"I'd like a ride in the cart myself, if I were small enough," said the children's mother, laughing.

"Yes, Zip is a good dog for the six little Bunkers to play with," observed Grandma Bell. "They'll have a good time with that cart."

"Yes, can't you take some of them for a turn now?" asked Mrs. Bunker.

"As soon as Laddie and I go around once more," promised Russ.

Zip didn't seem a bit tired, though he had run fast part of the time. Laddie got out and this made room for Rose and Violet, for Daddy Bunker said Russ had better stay in and do the driving.

"But I'm going to drive after a while? when I learn how," declared Rose, and they said she might.

Zip gave Russ, Rose and Vi as nice a ride as he had given the two boys, and the girls clapped their hands in glee and laughed joyously as they rattled along over the paths.

Then came the turn of Margy and Mun Bun, and they liked it more than any one, I guess, and didn't want to get out of the cart.

"But Zip is tired now," said Mrs. Bunker. "See how fast he is breathing, and how his tongue hangs out of his mouth," for the dog had been pulling the cart for over an hour. "Get out, Mun and Margy, and you may have another ride after Zip rests."

"If he was a horse he could have oats," said Russ. "But I guess he likes a bone better."

"I guess so, too," said Grandma Bell, and she smiled.

With the dog-cart, taking rowing trips on the lake now and then, going fishing, hunting for berries and walking in the woods, the six little Bunkers at Grandma Bell's had a fine time that early summer. There seemed to be something new to do every day, or, if there wasn't, Russ or Laddie made it.

"And I've thought up a new riddle," said the smaller boy one day.

"What's it about?" asked Russ.

"It's about Zip," Laddie replied. "Why is Zip like a little boy when he's tired? I mean when Zip is tired. Why is he like a little boy then?"

"Nope; that isn't the answer," said Laddie, shaking his head.

"Why isn't it?"

"'Cause it isn't. I know the answer, and it isn't that. Tom helped me think the riddle up. Maybe it's an old one, but Tom said it was good. Why is Zip, when he's tired, like a little boy?"

Russ thought for a while, and then he said:

"I don't know. I give up. Why is he, Laddie?"

"'Cause his breath comes in short pants. You see when Zip is tired his breath is short—he pants, Tom told me. And a little boy, like you and me, Russ, wears short pants. So that's why Zip is like one."

"Oh, I see!" laughed Russ. "That's pretty good. I know a riddle too, Laddie."

"What is it?"

"This. What makes a miller wear a white hat?"

Laddie thought over this for a moment or two and then said:

"Nope; that isn't it," Russ declared.

"Is it because nobody would sell him a black hat?" asked Laddie.

"Nope. Shall I tell you the answer?"

"No. Let me guess!" begged the smaller boy.

He gave several other answers, none of which, Russ said, was right, and at last Laddie murmured:

"I give up! Why does a miller wear a white hat?"

"To keep his head warm, same as anybody else!" laughed Russ. "Tom told me that riddle, too," he added.

"Well," said Laddie slowly, as he took off his own hat to run his fingers through his hair, "that isn't as good a riddle as the one about Zip's breath coming in short pants."

"Maybe not. But it's harder to guess," said Russ.

Then the two boys, after waiting for Zip's breath to come out of short pants—that is, waiting for him to get rested—went for a ride in the dog-cart.

"There's Mr. Hurd," said Russ. "He's the one we thought was the tramp lumberman that got daddy's real estate papers."

"I see him," said Laddie. "Look! He's waving to us! Let's go over and see what he wants."

Mr. Hurd was driving down a cross road, and waited for the boys to come up to him.

"Hello, Russ and Laddie!" he called, "I've got some news for you!"

"News?" asked Russ.

"Yes. Do you remember when you took me for the red-haired lumberman that you thought had your father's papers: Remember that?"

"Yes," answered Russ, "I do. But you weren't him. I wish we could find him."

OFF ON A TRIP

"Are you sure this tramp lumberman who took the old coat with your father's papers in it, had red hair?" asked Mr. Hurd as Zip came to a stop near the carriage, and lay down in the shade, for, not being a big horse, the dog could do almost as he pleased when harnessed up.

"Yes, he had red hair," said Russ. "But he really didn't mean to take the papers. I heard my father say. It was just a mistake."

"Yes, I guess that was it," agreed Mr. Hurd. "Well, your father would like to get those papers back, wouldn't he?"

"Indeed he would!" exclaimed Russ. "He and mother were talking about 'em only last night. Daddy would like to get 'em very much."

"Yes," answered Russ. Laddie let his brother do most of the talking this time. "It's over on the road to Green Pond, isn't it?" and Russ, sitting in the dog-cart beside Laddie, pointed in the direction of the place he spoke of. It was about three miles from where Grandma Bell lived. Russ had heard his father, mother and grandmother speak of Mr. Barker's place. He was a man who owned many fields and woodlands.

"That's right, Russ," said Mr. Hurd. "Mr. Barker's place is over by Green Pond. I see you know it all right. Well, now I heard yesterday that there is a red-haired lumberman working for Mr. Barker, cutting down trees for him, and getting ready to build an ice-house on the shore of Green Pond."

"Is he a tramp lumberman?" asked Russ.

"And if he's the tramp that got daddy's old coat then he must have the papers," said Russ.

"Well, yes, I suppose so. Unless he's lost 'em or sold 'em," went on Mr. Hurd. "Your father said those real estate papers were worth money, so maybe the tramp that found them in the pocket of the old coat sold them."

Russ and Laddie looked sad on hearing this. Suppose, after all, Daddy Bunker should not get his papers back? That would be too bad!

"We'll tell him," said Russ. "And thank you."

"Gid-dap!" called Mr. Hurd to his horse, and down the road it went, the carriage soon being out of sight. Zip, the dog harnessed to the cart which Russ and Laddie had helped make, still lay in the shade. He was taking a good rest.

"Oh, wouldn't it be fine if this is the lumberman daddy wants, and he could get back his papers?" said Laddie.

"Very fine," agreed Russ. "We'd better go back and tell him right away. Maybe he'll take us to Mr. Barker's place with him!"

"Oh, maybe!" cried Laddie. "Let's hurry home."

And, just as I told you, it was because the white rabbit popped out of the bushes right in front of the dog.

"Bow-wow!" barked Zip, as he saw the bunny. "Bow-wow!" and that meant: "I guess I'd better chase you!"

And that's what Zip did. Up he sprang from the grass, and after the white rabbit he ran. The dog started off so quickly that Russ and Laddie were almost thrown out of the cart. If they had not held to the sides of the box very hard they would have fallen out. As it was they were jerked and tossed about as Zip ran after the rabbit.

"Oh, what's the matter?" asked Laddie, who had not seen the bunny. "Did a bee sting Zip?" This had happened once, and the dog had run around yelping and barking, no one knowing what was the matter with him for a while.

But Zip did not stop. Very few dogs would, when once they had started to run after a rabbit.

"Bow-wow! Bow-wow!" barked Zip, and on he ran, faster and faster. He seemed to enjoy it very much.

It was a good thing the woods were not of the roughest kind just at this place, for otherwise the dog-cart would have been smashed to pieces. As it was it bumped and swayed from side to side, and Laddie and Russ had all they could do to keep from bouncing out.

"Whoa! Whoa!" called Russ, but Zip paid no attention. Nor did he care how much the little boy driver pulled on the lines. As Zip had no bit in his mouth to hurt him when it was pulled on hard, he was not going to stop. The leather muzzle around his nose did not hurt him as a bit would have done.

So into his hole, as if he were going down cellar, went the bunny. And Zip, with a howl of disappointment, saw the rabbit disappear. The dog stopped at the outside edge of the hole, and barked as loudly as he could. Perhaps he thought he was giving the bunny an invitation to come up.

But the bunny never answered. They don't bark, but they can make a funny little squeaking sound at times. This one didn't do even that.

"He's gone, Zip! You can't get him," said Russ.

"Bow-wow," answered the dog, almost as if he understood what Russ said, and as though he answered:

"Yes, he's gone, but I'll get him the next time."

"He gave us a good ride, anyhow, didn't he, Russ?" asked Laddie. "I guess he rode us 'most a mile."

They were up on top of a hill, and, looking through the trees, they could see, sparkling in the sun, the waters of Green Pond, about two miles away.

"That's where Mr. Barker lives," said Laddie.

"And maybe the red-haired lumberman is there with daddy's papers," said Russ. "Oh, Laddie! I know what let's do!"

"What?"

"Let's go down to Mr. Barker's place and ask the lumberman if he's a tramp, and if he is the one that took the old coat. Let's do that!"

"All right," agreed Laddie. "It isn't far and Zip will ride us there and home again, so we won't get tired. If we get the papers won't daddy be glad?"

"Terrible glad! Come on, we'll go!"

THE LUMBERMAN'S CABIN

Along the road that led down the hill, and through the woods to Green Pond, went Zip the dog; pulling after him the cart in which Russ and Laddie rode.

"I'm glad we're riding," said Laddie. "It would be awful far to walk to Mr. Barker's place at Green Pond and back again, wouldn't it, Russ?"

"Oh, I don't know," Russ answered slowly, as he guided Zip around a turn in the crooked path. "I could walk it, but your legs aren't as long as mine. I walked two miles once, with daddy."

"What'll we do when we see that red-haired lumberman?" asked the smaller boy.

"We'll ask him for daddy's old coat and the papers."

"Oh, well, he can have that," Russ answered. "Daddy gave him that, anyhow. But we can ask him for the papers."

"S'posin' he hasn't got 'em?"

"What makes you s'pose so much?" demanded Russ. "Wait till we get there, and we can tell what to do."

"All right," agreed Laddie. "I can be thinking of a riddle. Maybe I could ask the lumberman a riddle, Russ. Could I?"

"Maybe. But maybe he doesn't like 'em. Some folks don't."

"I could ask him an easy one, about the miller's hat, or about why the tickets don't get mad when the conductor punches 'em."

"No, don't ask him that one," Russ said.

"Why not?"

"'Cause that one about the tickets is too hard—nobody knows the answer. You don't yourself."

"I know I don't, but maybe the lumberman might. Maybe he'd like to answer it. I guess I'll ask him."

Laddie thought about this a while.

"All right," he said, finally, as Zip trotted along down the hill, and came out on a level road that led to Green Pond. "I'll make up a new riddle for the lumberman," he went on. "Or I could ask him about Zip's breath coming in short pants."

"All right, ask him that," agreed Russ. "I hope he gives us the papers."

Mr. Barker's place was on the shores of Green Pond. In fact the man owned the whole pond—or little lake, for that was what it was—and all the woods around it. His house, a very big one, stood in the woods not far from the pond, and all about the house were beautiful grounds, with roads and paths leading through them. And around the house was a high iron fence, with gate-ways here and there.

"There's the place," said Laddie, pointing.

"I see it," returned Russ. "Now we'll drive in and find the lumberman and get daddy's papers."

Russ guided Zip up to one of the big iron gates, and as the boys turned into the drive a man came out of a little house near the entrance and held up his hand. It was just as the policeman does in the city street when he wants the automobiles and wagons to stop, so Russ called to Zip:

"Whoa!"

The dog had learned to stop when any one driving him said this, so now he halted and, being tired, he stretched out on the ground. His harness was loose, so he could do this.

"Where are you boys going?" asked the man at the gate.

"We want to find a lumberman," said Russ.

"A lumberman?"

"Oh," said the man at the gate. "So you're looking for some one. But Mr. Barker lives here and you can't go in, I'm afraid."

"We know Mr. Barker lives here," returned Russ. "We live over at Lake Sagatook—that is, we don't zactly live there, but we're visiting Grandma Bell."

"Oh, are you some of the little children staying at Mrs. Bell's house?" asked the gate-tender. "I heard she had company. I know her well, but I don't often get a chance to see her. So you're her company."

"She's our grandma," explained Russ. "And we are the six little Bunkers—everybody calls us that. 'Course Laddie and I are only two Bunkers—there're four more at home—Rose, Vi, Margy and Mun Bun."

"What's Mun Bun?" asked the gate-man. Nearly every one asked this on hearing the funny name.

"His right name is Munroe, but we call him Mun Bun for short."

"Well, as long as you don't eat him for short I guess it will be all right," said the gate-man with a laugh.

"Is that a riddle—about eating Mun Bun?" asked Laddie.

"No. That's supposed to be a joke," explained the gate-man. "Your brother's nickname is Bun, you say. Well, a bun is something good to eat, but I hope you don't eat your little brother—joke, you see."

Russ and Laddie laughed. They didn't exactly understand the joke, but they thought the gate-man was jolly and they wanted to be jolly too.

"So you six little Bunkers—at least two of you—came to see Mr. Barker, did you?" asked the man at the entrance.

"No, we didn't zactly come to see him," answered Russ. "We want to see the lumberman that took daddy's ragged coat with the papers in the pocket—only he didn't know they were there and he didn't take the coat. That was given to him."

"He's red-haired," Russ reminded him.

"Oh, I guess I know whom you mean!" said the gate-man. "There is a red-haired man cutting trees over in the woods. Mr. Barker is going to build a new dock for his boats in Green Pond, and there is a red-haired man chopping down trees for the work. He is a lumberman, I s'pose."

"And is he red-haired?" asked Laddie eagerly.

"Yes, his hair is red. I remember now. He came here one day and asked if there was any work on the place. I was going to tell him there wasn't, when one of the gardeners said the foreman was looking for a man to chop trees. So this red-haired man was hired."

"And is he a tramp?" asked Russ.

"Well, he did look sort of like that, ragged and dusty."

"And did he have a ragged coat?" Russ went on.

"Oh, I do hope he's got daddy's papers!" went on Russ. "Mr. Hurd told us about the lumberman," he went on, "and we came to see him."

"Well, you can do that," said the guard at the gate. "Just follow this road until you come to the lake. This lumberman—I think his name is Mike Gannon—lives by himself in a little cabin near the place where the new dock is to be built. He said he was used to living by himself, so the foreman told him he could camp out there. And there you'll find him, if he isn't chopping down trees in the woods. Just follow this road to the lake. Will your dog pull you there?"

"Oh, yes, Zip is a good puller," said Russ. "He gave us this ride from Lake Sagatook."

"And he ran after a rabbit!" added Laddie. "And he might 'a' got it, only the bunny went down a hole."

"We will," promised Russ and Laddie. Then Russ called to Zip:

"Gid-dap!"

Up jumped the dog with a bark, as much as to say "Good-bye!" to the gate-man, and down the gravel drive he trotted with the cart.

"He was a nice man, wasn't he?" observed Laddie.

"Yes, terrible nice," agreed Russ. "I hope we find the red-haired lumberman."

"I forgot to ask him a riddle," went on Laddie. "I mean the man at the gate. But I can ask him one when we go back."

"If we have time," Russ said. "We can't stay too long, or mother and daddy and Grandma Bell will wonder where we are."

Only it was not going to be quite as easy as that, the boys were to learn.

Along the pretty drive, under the trees, they went in the dog-cart. Pretty soon they came to a part of the road where the little lake came close to the roadway, and, just beyond, was a log cabin.

"There's where the lumberman lives," said Russ.

"Yes, I guess he does," agreed Laddie.

And just then, all of a sudden, Zip saw a cat out in front of the cabin. With a growl and a bark the dog began to run toward the cat as fast as he could go, pulling the cart after him.

"Whoa! Whoa! Stop!" cried Russ.

"Stop! Stop, Zip!" yelled Laddie. "Stop!"

THE OLD COAT

"Bang!"

That was the soap-box cart hitting against a tree.

"Tunk! Tunk!"

Those were the soft sounds Russ and Laddie made as they were spilled out on the grass near the lumberman's cabin.

"Bow-wow!"

That was Zip barking at the cat.

"Hiss-siss!"

That was the cat making queer noises at Zip.

"Wow-ow-ow-Yelp!"

That was Zip howling because the cat scratched his nose.

But pussy was brave, and she didn't run and climb a tree, as most cats did when Zip chased them. She just stood, arching her back, making her tail big, and sissing queer sounds until the dog came near enough, when she darted out a paw, and the sharp claws scratched Zip on the nose. Then Zip howled and sat down to look at the cat. And the cat stayed right there looking at Zip.

For a moment or two Russ and Laddie didn't know just what had happened. But they scrambled to their feet. Then they saw Zip and the overturned cart and the cat, and they understood.

"He chased a cat," said Laddie.

"Zip, you're a bad dog!" cried Russ, and he shook his finger at the pet. "Didn't Grandma Bell tell you not to chase cats?"

This was true. Grandma Bell had told Zip that, but, like boys and girls, he sometimes forgot. Zip wasn't a bad dog, and he never bit cats. He just liked to chase them once in a while.

"No. Are you?"

"Nope. Say! but didn't Zip run fast, though?"

"Terrible fast. Faster than when he chased the rabbit."

There were a few red spots on Zip's nose where the cat had scratched him. The dog licked them away with his tongue, and looked rather silly. It wasn't very often a cat stayed to fight him.

Russ and Laddie started for the overturned cart, to set it up on the wheels again, when the door of the log cabin opened and out came a red-haired man, whose clothes were quite old and ragged. He wore a pair of boots, into the tops of which his trousers were tucked, but he had on no coat. Russ and Laddie looked particularly to see if he had a coat, but he had none.

"Hello! What's going on here?" asked the man.

"If you please, our dog chased your cat," said Russ, "but he didn't hurt him—I mean our dog didn't hurt your cat."

"Yes, your cat scratched him," returned Russ. "I guess Zip won't chase her any more."

"I guess not," the red-haired man agreed. "So you had an upset, did you?" he went on as he noticed the overturned cart. "Did either of you get hurt?"

"No, thank you," answered Russ. "We fell on the soft grass."

"That's good," returned the man. "I suppose you belong up in the big house, though I haven't seen you before, and I didn't know there were any children up there."

"No, we don't live in the big house," said Russ, for the man had pointed toward the residence of Mr. Barker. "We live over at Lake Sagatook—I mean we're visiting Grandma Bell—and we came to see you. We're two of the six little Bunkers."

"Yes, sir," answered Russ. "You're the lumberman, aren't you?"

"Well, yes, I used to be a lumberman when I could get work at it," answered the man standing in the cabin door. "I know how to cut down trees and all that sort of thing."

"And you have red hair," added Russ.

"Yes, you're right, I have got red hair," and the lumberman ran his fingers through it as though to pull out some and make sure it had not changed color.

"Is your name Mike Gannon?" asked Russ.

"That's my name, little Bunker—I don't know your first name."

"It's Russ, and his is Laddie," and Russ pointed to his brother.

By this time the cat, seeing that Zip was not going to chase her any more, had taken the arch out of her back and her tail looked like a small frankfurter sausage, and not like a big bologna one.

"To see you," answered Russ.

"To see me!" exclaimed the red-haired lumberman in surprise. "Well, I'm no great sight to look at, that's sure. But still I'm glad to see you. Are you sure you wanted me?"

"You're red-haired," said Russ slowly, as though going over certain points.

"That's right," said the lumberman.

"And you cut down trees," went on Russ.

"Correct."

"And were you ever a tramp?" Russ asked.

"Well, yes, you could call me that," admitted the red-haired man, speaking slowly. "I'm a sort of tramp lumberman. I never like to stay long in one place, and so I'm roving all over. You could call me a tramp."

"That's good," said Russ.

"Well, sometimes it is, and sometimes it isn't," said Mr. Gannon. "It isn't so bad tramping in the summer, but in the winter it isn't so nice. You get cold and hungry."

"The ragged coat?" questioned Mr. Gannon. He did not seem to know what Laddie meant.

"Didn't you get a ragged cent from my daddy's real estate office about a month ago?" went on Russ in surprise. "It was in Pineville, where we live when we aren't visiting Grandma Bell. Did you get a ragged coat there?"

"Pineville—Pineville?" murmured the red-haired lumberman to himself, as if trying to remember. "Yes, I did tramp through there and—Hold on!" he cried. "I remember now! I did ask at an office if they had an old coat they could give me. I hadn't one worth wearing. I did get an old coat, and, as you say, it was ragged."

"Our father gave you that," went on Laddie. "Or he told one of his real estate men to do it."

"We came in the train," said Laddie, "and I know a riddle about the conductor punching the tickets, but I don't know——"

Russ didn't want his brother to get to talking about riddles at a time like this. So he interrupted with:

"And have you got that ragged coat now, Mr. Tramp—I mean Mr. Gannon? Have you got that coat now?"

"Have I got that ragged coat, you mean?" asked the man.

"Yes. Our daddy wants it back!"

Mr. Gannon looked a bit surprised.

"Not to wear," explained Russ quickly. "He doesn't want it to wear. You can keep it, I guess. But when he told the clerk in his office to give the coat to you there were some papers in one of the pockets and——"

"Real estate papers," broke in Laddie, remembering this part.