It was rather rough going for the big car, and the little Bunkers were jounced about a good bit. Russ and Laddie trotted along on their ponies quite contentedly, however, and did not complain of the pace. But Vi began to ask questions, as usually was the case when she was disturbed either in mind or body.
"Daddy, why do we jump up and down so when the car bumps?" she wanted to know. "You and mother don't bounce the way Mun Bun and Margy and Rose and I do. Why do we?"
"Because you are not as heavy as your mother and I. Therefore you cannot resist the jar of the car so well."
"But why does the car bump at all? Our car at home doesn't bump—unless we run intosomething. Why does this car of Mr. Cowboy Jack's bump?"
"The road is not smooth. That is why," said her father, trying to satisfy that thirst for knowledge which sometimes made Violet a good deal of a nuisance.
"Why isn't this road smooth?" promptly demanded the little girl.
"Jumping grasshoppers!" ejaculated the ranchman, greatly amused, "can't that young one ask 'em, though?"
At once Vi's active attention was drawn to another subject.
"Mr. Cowboy Jack," she demanded, "why do grasshoppers jump?"
"Fine!" exclaimed Daddy Bunker. "You brought it on yourself, Jack. Answer her if you can."
"That's an easy one," declared the much amused ranchman.
"Well, why do they jump?" asked the impatient Vi.
"I'll tell you," returned Cowboy Jack seriously. "They jump because their legs are so long that, when they try to walk, they tumble over their own feet. Do you see how that is?"
"No-o, I don't," said Vi slowly. "But if it is so, why don't they have shorter legs?"
"Jump—Never mind!" ejaculated Cowboy Jack. "You got me that time. I reckon I'll let your daddy do the answering. You fixed me, first off."
So Vi never did find out why grasshoppers had such long legs that they had to jump instead of walk. It puzzled her a good deal. She asked everybody in the car, and nobody seemed able to explain—not even Daddy Bunker himself.
"Well," murmured Vi at last, "I neverdidhear of such—such iggerance. There doesn't seem to be anybody knows anything."
"I should think you'd know a few things yourself, Vi, so as not to be always asking," criticized her twin.
Daddy Bunker was much amused by this. But the next moment the wheels on one side of the car jumped high over a clod of hard earth, and daddy had to grab quick at Mun Bun or he might have been jounced completely out of the car.
"What are you trying to do, Mun Bun?" demanded daddy sharply.
"I'm flying my kite," answered the little fellow calmly. "But I 'most lost it that time, Daddy."
Before getting into the automobile Mun Bun had found a large piece of stiff brown paper and had tied a string of some length to it. Although there was no framework to this "kite," the wind caused by the rapid movement of the automobile helped to fly the piece of paper at the end of the string.
"Look out you don't go overboard," advised Daddy Bunker.
"You hold on to me, Daddy—p'ease," said the smallest Bunker. "You see, this kite pulls pretty hard."
Russ and Laddie were riding close behind the motor-car, but on the other side of the trail. The minute after Mun Bun had made his request, a gust of wind took the kite over to that side of the car and it almost blew into the face and eyes of Russ Bunker's pony.
MUN BUNS' "KITE" FRIGHTENED THE PINTO.MUN BUNS' "KITE" FRIGHTENED THE PINTO.
Six Little Bunkers at Cowboy Jack's.(Page 218)
The pinto was very well behaved; but this paper startled him. He shied and wheeled suddenly to get away from the annoying kite. Instantly Russ shot over the pony's head and came down asprawl on the ground!
As he flew out of the saddle Russ uttered a shout of alarm, and Pinky, Laddie's mount, was likewise frightened. Pinky started ahead at a gallop, and Laddie was dreadfully shaken up. He squealed as loud as he could, but he managed to pull Pinky down to a stop very soon.
"Wha—what are you doing, Russ Bunker?" Laddie wanted to know. "Is that the right way to get off a pony?"
Russ had not lost his grip of the bridle-reins, and he scrambled up and held his snorting pony.
"You know I don't get off that way if I can help it," said Russ indignantly.
"But you did," said Laddie.
"Well, I didn't mean to. My goodness! but my knee is scratched."
The automobile had stopped, and Mother Bunker called to Russ to ask if he was much hurt.
"Not much, Mother," he replied. "But make Mun Bun fly his kite somewhere else. My pony doesn't like it."
"Mun Bun," said Daddy Bunker seriously, "I think you will have to postpone the flying of that kite until later."
"He'd better," chuckled Cowboy Jack, starting the car again. "First he knows he'll scare me, and then maybe I'll run the car off the track."
Of course that was one of Cowboy Jack's jokes. He was always joking, it seemed.
At last they came in sight of the place where the several big scenes of the moving picture were going to be photographed. A river that the little Bunkers had not before seen flowed here in a great curve which Cowboy Jack spoke of as the Oxbow Bend. It was a grassy, gently sloping field, with not a tree in sight save along the edge of the water.
Nevertheless, many trees had been brought here and a good-sized stockade, or "fort," had been erected. The structure was in imitation of those forts, or posts, of the United States Army that marked the advance of the pioneers into this vast Western country a good deal more than half a century ago.
Daddy Bunker had told the children something about the development of this part of the United States the evening before, and Russ and Rose, at least, had understood and remembered. But just now they were all more interested in the people they found here at the Oxbow Bend and in what they were doing.
In one place were several covered wagons and the traveling kitchen. Here the white members of the moving picture company lived. At the other side was the encampment of Black Bear and his people. The Indian camp had been brought to this place from the spot where the little Bunkers had first visited it.
Black Bear and Little Elk and the other Indians welcomed the little Bunkers very kindly. And on this occasion the Eastern children became acquainted with the little Indians who had come down from the Indian reservation in Oklahoma with their parents to work for the moving picture company.
Rose and Russ felt they knew these Indian boys and girls already. You see, they had seen more of the Indians than the other Bunker children had. They found that Indian boys and girls played a good deal like white children. At least, the dark-faced little girls had dolls made of corncobs and wood, with painted faces, and they wrapped them in tiny blankets. One little girl showed Rose her "best" doll which she had carefully hidden away in a tent. Thisdoll was a rosy-cheeked beauty that could open and shut her eyes, and must have cost a good deal of money. She told Rose that Chief Black Bear had given the doll to her for learning Sunday-school texts.
The boys took Russ and Laddie down to the edge of the river and sailed several toy canoes that the men of the tribe had fashioned for them. The canoes were just like big Indian canoes, with high prows and sterns and painted with targets. Besides these toys the Indian boys had bows and arrows that were modeled much better than the bows and arrows Russ and Laddie owned, and could shoot much farther.
When Russ tried the Indians' bow and arrows he was surprised at the distance he could drive the arrow and how accurately he sent it.
"I guess you boys know how to make 'em right," he told Joshua Little Elk, one of the Indian lads and a son of the big Little Elk who had helped find Rose when she was lost. "Laddie and I have only got boughten bow-arrows, and the arrows don't fly very good."
"My papa made this bow for me," said Joshua, who was a very polite little boy withjet-black hair. "And he scraped the arrows and found the heads."
The heads were of flint, just such arrow-heads as the ancient Indians used to make. But the modern Indians, if they used arrows at all in hunting, have steel arrow-heads which they buy from the white traders.
These things and a lot more Russ and Laddie learned while they were with the Indians. But there was not time for play all of the day. By and by Mr. Habback, the moving picture director, shouted through his megaphone, and everybody gathered at the stockade, or fort, and he explained what was to be done. Some of the pictures were to be taken that day; but the bigger fight would be made the day following.
However, the Bunker children were not altogether disappointed at this time. There was a run made by one of the covered wagons for the fort, and the little Bunkers, dressed in odds and ends of calico and sunbonnets and old-time straw hats, sat in the back of the wagon and screamed as they were told to while the six mules that drew the wagon raced for the fort with the Indians chasing behind on horseback.
Mun Bun might have fallen out had not both Russ and Rose clung to him. And the little fellow did not like it much after all.
"My hair wasn't parted, Muvver," he said afterward to Mother Bunker. "And I didn't have my new blouse on—or my wed tie. I don't think that will be a good picture of me. Not near so good as the one we had taken before in the man's shop that takes reg'lar pictures."
But although Mun Bun did not care much for the picture making, the other little Bunkers continued to be vastly amused and interested. They watched Black Bear and the commander of the soldiers smoke the pipe of peace in the Indian encampment. Mr. Habback allowed Russ to dress up like a little Indian boy to appear with Joshua Little Elk in this picture, because they were about the same size. They brought the ornamented pipe to the chief after it had been filled by the old Indian woman, Mary.
It was a very interesting affair, and if Mun Bun was bored by it, he fell asleep anyway, so it did not matter. But the next day the big fight was staged, and that was bound to be exciting enough to keep even Mun Bun awake.The fight was about to start and the call was made for all the children to gather inside the stockade.
The Bunkers were all to be there. But suddenly there was a great outcry around the tent that had been set up for the use of Mother Bunker and the six little Bunkers.
Mun Bun was not to be found. They sent the other children scurrying everywhere—to the soldiers' camp, to the Indian encampment, and all around. Nobody had seen Mun Bun for an hour. And in an hour, as you and I know, a good deal can happen to a little Bunker!
"Why does he do it, Daddy?" asked Vi.
"Why does he do what?" returned her father, who was too excited and anxious to wish to be bothered by Vi's questions.
"Mun Bun. Why does he?"
"Don't bother me now," said her father. "It is bad enough to have Mun Bun disappear in this mysterious way——"
"But why does he disappear—and everything?" Vi wanted to know. "He's the littlest of all of us Bunkers, but he makes the most trouble. Why does he?"
"I'm sure," said Mother Bunker, who had overheard Vi, "you may be right. But I can't answer your question and neither can daddy. Now, don't bother us, Vi. If you can't find your little brother, let us look for him."
The whole party at the Oxbow Bend wasroused by this time, and men, women and children were looking for the little lost boy. Some of the cowboys who were working with the moving picture people scurried all around the neighborhood on pony back; but they could see nothing of Mun Bun.
Russ and Rose had searched everywhere they could think of. Mun Bun had not been in their care at the time he was lost, and for that fact Russ and Rose were very thankful. This only relieved them of personal responsibility, however; the older brother and sister were very much troubled about Mun Bun's absence.
The smallest Bunker really had succeeded in getting everybody at Oxbow Bend very much stirred up. Even the usually stolid Indians went about seeking the little white boy. And Mun Bun was nearer the Indians just then than he was to anybody else!
The little fellow had gone wandering off after breakfast while almost everybody else was down at the fort listening to Mr. Habback's final instructions about the big scene that was to be shot. Mun Bun had already expressed himself as disapproving of the picture. He knew he would not look nice in it.
He came to the Indian encampment, and the only person about was an old squaw who was doing something at the cooking fire. She gave Mun Bun no attention, and he looked only once at her. She did not interest the little boy at all.
But there was something here he was curious about. He had seen it before, and he wanted to see in it—to learn what the Indians kept in it. It was a big box, bigger than Mother Bunker's biggest trunk, and now the lid was propped up.
Mun Bun did not ask the old woman if he could look in it. Maybe he did not think to ask. At any rate, there was a pile of blankets beside the box and he climbed upon them and then stood up and looked down into the big box.
It was half filled with a multitude of things—beaded clothing, gaily colored blankets, feather headdresses, and other articles of Indian apparel. And although there was so much packed in the box, there was still plenty of room.
"It would make a nice cubby-house to play in," thought Mun Bun. "I wonder what that is."
"That" was something that glittered down in one corner. Mun Bun stooped over the edge of the box and tried to reach the glittering object. At first he did not succeed; then he reached farther—and he got it! But in doing this he slipped right over the edge of the box and dived headfirst into it.
Mun Bun cried out; but that cry was involuntary. Then he remembered that he was where he had no business to be, and he kept very still. He even lost interest in the thing he had tried to reach and which had caused his downfall.
Of a sudden he heard talking outside. It was talking that Mun Bun could not understand. He was always alarmed when he heard the Indians speaking their own tongue, for he did not know what they said. So Mun Bun kept very still, crouching down there in the box. He would not try to get out until these people he heard went away.
Just then, and before Mun Bun could change his mind if he wanted to, somebody came along and slammed down the lid of that box!
Poor little Mun Bun was much frightened then. At first he did not cry out or try to makehimself heard. But he heard the person outside lock the box and then go away. After that he heard nothing at all for a long time.
Perhaps Mun Bun sobbed himself to sleep. At least, it seemed to him when he next aroused that he had been in the box a long, long time. He knew he was hungry, and being hungry is not at all a pleasant experience.
Meanwhile the search for the smallest Bunker was carried on all about the Oxbow Bend. In the brush and along the river's edge where the cottonwoods stood, and in every little coulee, or hollow, back of the camps.
"I don't see," complained Rose, "why we Bunkers have to be losing things all the time. There was my wrist-watch and Laddie's pin. Next came Vi and Laddie. Then Mun Bun was lost in the tumble-weed. Then I got lost myself. Now it's Mun Bun again. Somehow, Russ, it does seem as though we must be awful careless."
"You speak for yourself, Rose Bunker!" returned her brother quite sharply. "I knowIwasn't careless about Mun Bun. I didn't even know he needed watching—not when daddy and mother were around."
Nobody seemed more disturbed over Mun Bun's disappearance than Cowboy Jack. The ranchman had set everybody about the place to work hunting for the little boy, and privately he had begun to offer a reward for the discovery of the lost one.
To Cowboy Jack came one of the older Indian men. He was not a modern, up-to-date Indian, like Chief Black Bear. He still tied his hair in a scalp-lock, and if he was not actually a "blanket Indian" (that is, one of the old kind that wore blankets instead of regular shirts and jackets), this Indian was one that had not been to school. Russ and Rose were standing with Cowboy Jack when the old Indian came to the ranchman.
"Wuh! Heap trouble in camp," said the old Indian in his deep voice.
"And there's going to be more trouble if we don't find that little fellow pretty soon," declared the ranchman vigorously.
"Bad spirits here. Bad medicine," grunted the old Indian.
"What's that? You mean to say one of those bootleggers that sell you reds bad whisky is around?"
"No. No firewater. Heap worse," said the Indian.
"Can't be anything worse than whisky," declared Cowboy Jack emphatically.
"Bad spirits," said the Indian stubbornly. "In box. Make knocking. White chief come see—come hear."
He called Cowboy Jack a "chief" because the white man owned the big ranch. Rose and Russ listened very earnestly to what the Indian said, and they urged Cowboy Jack to go to the Indian encampment and see what it meant.
"What's a spirit, Russ?" asked his sister.
"Alcohol," declared Russ, proud of his knowledge. "But I don't see how alcohol could knock on a box. It's a liquid—like water, you know."
They trotted after Cowboy Jack and the old Indian and came to the big box that had been locked in preparation for shipping back to the reservation when the Indians got through their job here with the picture company. It looked to be a perfectly innocent box, and at first the children and Cowboy Jack heard nothing remarkable from within it.
"I reckon you were hearing things in your mind, old fellow," said the ranchman to the Indian.
The latter grunted suddenly and pointed to the box. There was a sound that seemed to come from inside. Something made a rat, tat, tat on the cover of the box.
"Goodness me!" murmured Rose, quite startled.
"That's a real knocking," admitted Russ.
Cowboy Jack sprang forward and tried to open the box.
"Hey!" he exclaimed. "It's locked. Where's the key? When did you lock this box?"
"Black Bear—him lock it. Got key," said the old Indian, keeping well away from the box.
"You go and get that key in a hurry. Somebody is in that box, sure as you live!" cried the ranchman.
"I know! I know!" shouted Russ excitedly. "It's Mun Bun! They have locked him in that box!"
"Oh, poor little Mun Bun!" wailed Rose. "Do—do you suppose the Indians were trying to steal him?"
"Of course not," returned Russ disdainfully."Mr. Black Bear wouldn't steal anybody. He just didn't know Mun Bun was in there. I guess Mun Bun crawled in by himself."
Then he went close to the big box and shouted Mun Bun's name, and they all heard the little boy reply—but his voice came to them very faintly.
"We'd better get him out in a hurry," said Cowboy Jack anxiously. "The little fellow might easily smother inside that box."
There was great excitement at the Indian camp during the next few minutes. Everybody came running to the spot when they heard that Mun Bun was found but could not be got at. Everybody but Chief Black Bear. He had gone off to a place at some distance from the camp, and a man on pony-back had to go to get him, for Black Bear had the key of the big box.
Daddy Bunker and mother came with the other Bunker children, and Vi began to ask questions as usual. But nobody paid much attention to her questions. Laddie said he thought he could make up a riddle about Mun Bun in the box, but before he managed to do this the chief arrived with the key.
When the lid of the box was lifted the firstperson Mun Bun saw was Daddy Bunker, and he put up his arms to him and cried:
"Daddy! Daddy! Mun Bun don't want to stay in this place. Mun Bun wants to go home."
"And I must say," said Mother Bunker, who had been much worried, "that home will be the very best place in the world after this. I will not let Mun Bun out of my reach again. How does he manage to get into so much trouble?"
"Why, Muvver!" sobbed the littlest Bunker, "I just tumble in. I tumbled into this box and then they locked me in."
"How does he tumble into trouble?" demanded Vi, staring at Mun Bun.
"Iknowthere is a riddle about it," said Laddie thoughtfully. "Only I can't just make it out yet."
They were all very glad that Mun Bun was not hurt. But it did seem that he would have to be watched very closely or he might disappear again.
"He's just like a drop of quicksilver," said Cowboy Jack. "When you try to put your finger on him, he isn't there."
Just then the great horn blew to call everybody to the fort, for Mr. Habback was ready for the big scene of the picture. The little Bunkers—at least, all but Mun Bun—were eager to respond, for they wanted to be in the picture. Mother, however, kept the little boy with her, and they only watched the picture when it was made. That satisfied Mun Bun just as well, for he did not believe that he looked nice enough to go to a photographer just then.
"I guess I'll have my picture taken when I get back to Pineville, Muvver," he said. "I'll like it better."
But the rest of the party would never forget that exciting day. The Indians led by Black Bear attacked the fort, and there was much shooting and shouting and riding back and forth. The shooting was with blank cartridges, of course, so that nobody was hurt.
But even the ponies seemed to be excited, and Russ told Rose he was quite sure Pinky and his pinto, who were both in the picture, enjoyed the play just as much as anybody!
"Only, they will never see the picture when it is on the screen. And daddy says we will,if nothing happens. When the picture comes to Pineville we can take all the children we know at school and show 'em how we worked for the picture company and helped make 'A Romance of the Santa Fé Trail!'"
This, later, they did. But, of course, you will have to read about that in another story about the Six Little Bunkers.
Mr. Habback thanked the Bunkers when the work was done, and in the middle of the afternoon Cowboy Jack took them all back to the ranch house again in his big blue car, one of his cowboys leading in Pinky and the pinto pony later.
On the way to the ranch Russ and Rose heard daddy tell mother that he had managed to fix up Mr. Golden's business for him and that it would soon be time to start East.
"I don't care—much," Rose said, when she heard this. "We have had a very exciting time, Russ. And I guess I want to go to school again. They must have coal in Pineville. I should think they would have some by now."
"I hate to lose my pinto pony," said Russ.
"Can't we take him and Pinky with us?" Laddie asked. "I do wish we could."
"Can't do that," said daddy seriously. "We have enough pets now for Jerry Simms to look after."
"I tell you what," said Cowboy Jack heartily. "I'll take good care of the ponies, little folks, so that when you come out to see me again they will be all ready for you to use."
"And Jerry, too?" cried Mun Bun. "I like that pony. He doesn't run so fast."
"And Jerry, too," agreed the ranchman.
So the little Bunkers were contented with this promise.
When they got to the ranch house everybody there seemed very glad to see them, and Maria, the Mexican cook, had a very nice supper ready for the six little Bunkers. She seemed to know that she would not cook for the visitors much longer, and she tried to please them particularly with this meal. There were waffles again, and all the little Bunkers were fond of those delectable dainties. Only Mother Bunker would not always let them eat as many as they wanted to.
But there was something at the ranch besides supper that evening that interested the children very much. There was some more mailfrom the East, and among it a little package that had been registered and sent to Mother Bunker by Captain Ben from Grand View.
"I guess he has sent Mother Bunker a nice present," declared Rose eagerly. "Captain Ben likes mother."
"Don't we all like her?" demanded Vi. "I like her very much. Can't I give her a present too?"
"You are always picking flowers and finding pretty things for me," said Mrs. Bunker kindly. "I appreciate them just as much as any present Captain Ben could give me."
"But what is it, Mother?" asked Rose, quite as excited as Vi and the others.
"We shall have to open it and see," her mother said.
But she would not open the little package until after supper. Perhaps that is why the little Bunkers were willing to eat fewer of Maria's nice waffles. They were all eager to see what was in the package. Even daddy claimed to be curious.
So, when the lamps were lit in the big living room and everybody was more than ready, as Russ complained, Mother Bunker began to untie the string which fastened the package from Captain Ben.
"I guess it is a diamond necklace," declared Rose earnestly.
"Oh, maybe it is a pretty pearl brooch," said Russ.
"What do you suppose it is, Daddy?" asked Mother Bunker, busy with the string and seals and smiling at Mr. Bunker knowingly.
"It isn't a white elephant, I am sure," chuckled Daddy Bunker.
"Oh! Now he is making fun," cried Rose. "It is something pretty, of course, for mother."
"I know! I know!" cried Laddie suddenly. "I know what it is."
"If you know so much," returned his twin "tell us."
"It's a riddle," declared Laddie.
"I guess it must be," laughed his mother. "'Riddle-me-ree! What do I see?'" and she opened the outside wrapper and displayed a little box with a letter wrapped about it.
"From Captain Ben to be sure," she said, unfolding the letter and beginning to read it.
"And it is a riddle!" repeated Laddie with conviction.
Mother Bunker began to laugh. She nodded and smiled at them.
"It certainly is a riddle," she said. "It is almost as good a riddle as that one Laddie told about the splinter."
"I know! I know!" cried the little boy. "'I went out to the woodpile and got it.' I remember that one. But—but that isn't a splinter he has sent you, is it, Mother?"
"It is something that Captain Ben looked for and could not find. But all the time he had it. What is it?"
The little Bunkers stared at each other. Laddie murmured:
"That is a riddle! What can it be?"
Suddenly Rose uttered a little squeal and clasped her hands.
"Oh, Mother!" she cried. "Is it—is it mywatch?"
At that Laddie began fairly to dance up and down. He was so excited he could scarcely speak.
"Is it my pin?" he wanted to know. "My stick-pin that I left at Grand View, Mother? Is it?"
There certainly was great excitement in theroom until Mother Bunker opened the box. And there lay in cotton-wool the missing watch and stick-pin. Captain Ben had hunted a second time for the lost treasures the little Bunkers had so carelessly left behind, and had found the watch and pin.
Rose and Laddie were so delighted that they could only laugh and dance about for a few minutes. But Vi was rather disappointed that it was not, after all, a present for Mother Bunker.
It was quite late before the little Bunkers could get settled in their beds that night. That is, all but Mun Bun. He fell asleep in Mother Bunker's lap and did not know much about what went on.
Rose and Laddie promised not to lose their treasures again. And, of course, they had not meant to leave the watch and pin behind at Grand View. But daddy told them that thoughtlessness always bred trouble and disappointment.
"Like Mun Bun getting into the Indian's trunk," said Vi seriously. "He made us a lot of trouble to-day."
Mun Bun made them no more trouble whilethey remained on the ranch, for Mother Bunker and Rose were especially careful in watching him. The little boy did not mean to get lost; but Cowboy Jack laughingly said that Mun Bun seemed to have that habit.
"Some day you folks are going to mislay that boy and won't find him so easily. I tell you, he is a regular drop of quicksilver."
But after that, although the six little Bunkers had plenty of fun at Cowboy Jack's, they had no dangerous adventure. They rode and drove the ponies, and played with the dogs, and watched the cowboys herd the cattle and some of the men train horses to saddle-work that had never been ridden before and did not seem to like the idea at all of carrying people on their backs.
"It is lucky Pinky and your calico pony don't mind carrying us," Laddie remarked on one occasion to Russ. "I guess if they pitched like those big horses do, they would throw us right over their heads on to the ground."
"Well, my pinto threw me once," said Russ rather proudly. "But it only shook me up a little. And, of course, accidents are apt to happen anywhere and to anybody."
But Laddie did not think he would care to be thrown over Pinky's head. Rose had told him it was not a nice experience at all!
In a few days the Bunkers packed their trunks and bags and the big blue automobiles came around to the door, and they bade everybody at Cowboy Jack's ranch good-bye. They had had a lovely time—all of them.
"And I've had the best time of all having you here," declared the ranchman. "I hate to have you little Bunkers go. I don't see, Charlie, why you can't spare two or three of them and let 'em stay with me."
"I guess not!" exclaimed Daddy Bunker. "We have just enough children. We couldn't really stand another one, but we can't spare one of these we have. Could we, Mother?"
Mother Bunker quite agreed. She "counted noses" when the six little Bunkers were packed into the cars with the baggage. You see, after all, it was quite a task to keep account of so many children at one time. And especially if they chanced to be as lively as were the six little Bunkers, who never remained—any of them—in one spot for long at a time. That made them particularly hard to count.
Russ and Rose and Laddie and Violet and Margy and Mun Bun all told Cowboy Jack that they had had a good time, and they hoped to see him again. If they do ever go to Cowboy Jack's ranch again I hope I shall know about it. And if I do, I will surely tell you all that happens to the Six Little Bunkers.
Author of The Bobbsey Twins Books, The Bunny Brown Series, The Make-Believe Series, Etc.
Durably Bound. Illustrated. Uniform Style of Binding.Every Volume Complete in Itself.
Delightful stories for little boys and girls which sprung into immediate popularity. To know the six little Bunkers is to take them at once to your heart, they are so intensely human, so full of fun and cute sayings. Each story has a little plot of its own—one that can be easily followed—and all are written in Miss Hope's most entertaining manner. Clean, wholesome volumes which ought to be on the bookshelf of every child in the land.
Delightful stories for little boys and girls which sprung into immediate popularity. To know the six little Bunkers is to take them at once to your heart, they are so intensely human, so full of fun and cute sayings. Each story has a little plot of its own—one that can be easily followed—and all are written in Miss Hope's most entertaining manner. Clean, wholesome volumes which ought to be on the bookshelf of every child in the land.
SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT GRANDMA BELL'SSIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT AUNT JO'SSIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT COUSIN TOM'SSIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT GRANDPA FORD'SSIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT UNCLE FRED'SSIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT CAPTAIN BEN'SSIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT COWBOY JACK'SSIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT MAMMY JUNE'SSIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT FARMER JOEL'SSIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT MILLER NED'S
Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York
Author of "The Bunny Brown Series," Etc.
Durably Bound. Illustrated. Uniform Style of Binding.Every Volume Complete in Itself.
These books for boys and girls between the ages of three and tenstandamong children and their parents of this generation where the books of Louisa May Alcott stood in former days. The haps and mishaps of this inimitable pair of twins, their many adventures and experiences are a source of keen delight to imaginative children everywhere.
These books for boys and girls between the ages of three and tenstandamong children and their parents of this generation where the books of Louisa May Alcott stood in former days. The haps and mishaps of this inimitable pair of twins, their many adventures and experiences are a source of keen delight to imaginative children everywhere.
THE BOBBSEY TWINSTHE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE COUNTRYTHE BOBBSEY TWINS AT THE SEASHORETHE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SCHOOLTHE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SNOW LODGETHE BOBBSEY TWINS ON A HOUSEBOATTHE BOBBSEY TWINS AT MEADOW BROOKTHE BOBBSEY TWINS AT HOMETHE BOBBSEY TWINS IN A GREAT CITYTHE BOBBSEY TWINS ON BLUEBERRY ISLANDTHE BOBBSEY TWINS ON THE DEEP BLUE SEATHE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE GREAT WESTTHE BOBBSEY TWINS AT CEDAR CAMPTHE BOBBSEY TWINS AT THE COUNTY FAIRTHE BOBBSEY TWINS CAMPING OUTTHE BOBBSEY TWINS AND BABY MAY
Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York.
Author of the Popular "Bobbsey Twins" Books, Etc.
Durably Bound. Illustrated. Uniform Style of Binding.Every Volume Complete in Itself.
These stories by the author of the "Bobbsey Twins" Books are eagerly welcomed by the little folks from about five to ten years of age. Their eyes fairly dance with delight at the lively doings of inquisitive little Bunny Brown and his cunning, trustful sister Sue.
These stories by the author of the "Bobbsey Twins" Books are eagerly welcomed by the little folks from about five to ten years of age. Their eyes fairly dance with delight at the lively doings of inquisitive little Bunny Brown and his cunning, trustful sister Sue.
BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUEBUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE ON GRANDPA'S FARMBUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE PLAYING CIRCUSBUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT CAMP REST-A-WHILEBUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT AUNT LU'S CITY HOMEBUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE IN THE BIG WOODSBUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE ON AN AUTO TOURBUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AND THEIR SHETLAND PONYBUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE GIVING A SHOWBUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT CHRISTMAS TREE COVEBUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE IN THE SUNNY SOUTHBUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE KEEPING STOREBUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AND THEIR TRICK DOGBUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT A SUGAR CAMP
Grosset & Dunlap, Publishers, New York
Individual Colored Wrappers and Text Illustrations Drawn byWALTER S. ROGERS
A new line of fascinating tales for little girls. Honey Bunch is a dainty, thoughtful little girl, and to know her is to take her to your heart at once.
HONEY BUNCH: JUST A LITTLE GIRL
Happy days at home, helping mamma and the washerlady. And Honey Bunch helped the house painters too—or thought she did.
Happy days at home, helping mamma and the washerlady. And Honey Bunch helped the house painters too—or thought she did.
HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST VISIT TO THE CITY
What wonderful sights Honey Bunch saw when she went to visit her cousins in New York! And she got lost in a big hotel and wandered into a men's convention!
What wonderful sights Honey Bunch saw when she went to visit her cousins in New York! And she got lost in a big hotel and wandered into a men's convention!
HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST DAYS ON THE FARM
Can you remember how the farm looked the first time you visited it? How big the cows and horses were, and what a roomy place to play in the barn proved to be?
Can you remember how the farm looked the first time you visited it? How big the cows and horses were, and what a roomy place to play in the barn proved to be?
HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST VISIT TO THE SEASHORE