"Sunny Boy sat down sociably on an old soap box""Sunny Boy sat down sociably on an old soap box"
"In the subway. They pushed me and then I thought I saw mother and it was another lady."
The boy glanced at him sharply.
"You stringing me?" he demanded. "You do look as if you were used to having somebody around with you. Don't you know where you live?"
"Of course I do," declared Sunny Boy quickly. "I always 'member where I live. It's the Macnapin Hotel."
The newsboy had sold nearly all his papers now and he felt that he could take a little time to question this strange child who sat on the soap box and said he was lost.
"That's a new one to me," he admitted, when Sunny Boy mentioned the hotel. "Is it in New York?"
"My, yes!" Sunny Boy answered, surprised. "Don't you know? I know one of the bell-boys."
"Well, how do you get to it?" demanded the newsboy.
Sunny Boy didn't know.
"Well, then, what's your name?" said his new friend.
"Sunny Boy," came the prompt answer.
The newsboy laughed.
"'Sunny Boy'!" he jeered. "That's a great name to be lost with. S'pose your folks will put an ad in to-morrow's papers for a lost child named Sunny Boy?"
Now by this time Sunny was very hungry and tired from his long day at the Park. He was worried, too, and he felt very far away from his daddy and mother. Two big tears gathered in his eyes and ran down his face.
O
h, I say!" the newsboy's voice changed instantly. "Don't cry, kid. If you say your name is Sunny Boy, all right, it is. And I'll even have it you live at the Macnapin Hotel, though where that is is more than I know. Quit crying, I tell you; you're going home along with me."
Sunny Boy continued to stare at him, the tears slowly chasing down his cheeks.
"I want my mother!" he sobbed forlornly.
"All right, all right, I'll get her for you," promised the distracted older boy. "You leave it to Tim Harrity, and there won't nothing happen to you. Only quit crying,because folks are beginning to look at you. Come on. I'm through for the night."
Sunny Boy slipped a hot little hand into Tim's.
"Where we going?" he quavered.
"Home," said Tim Harrity briefly. "When I'm sold out, I go home. You come along now, and don't talk because I'm trying to figure out what hotel you belong at."
Sunny Boy trotted beside Tim, obediently silent. He was so tired that his feet stumbled, but he plodded on, keeping a tight clutch on his friend's hand.
Suddenly Tim stopped short and gave a shout.
"I have it!" he cried, snapping his fingers excitedly. "I'll bet what you're trying to say is the 'McAlpin'! Aren't you staying at the McAlpin Hotel?"
"Why, yes," admitted Sunny Boy, surprised. "I told you so."
Tim was in high good humor at his clevernessin solving the riddle, and he hurried Sunny Boy down the street as fast as he could go. Presently they came to a smaller street and turned the corner. The houses were very close together, and it seemed to Sunny that at least three people were hanging out of every window. Babies toddled all over the sidewalk, and in one place, where a pushcart had broken down, a swarm of little children quarreled over a heap of half-rotten pears.
"Here we are," announced Tim, steering Sunny Boy up the rickety steps of a sagging brick house. "Go careful, 'cause you're not used to the stairs. And don't take hold of the railing—it's weak."
Sunny Boy felt his way up three pairs of dark stairs behind Tim, and when they reached the third floor a door opened to let a flood of light out on them.
"That you, Tim?" some one called. "You're late. I set the stew back to keepit hot. Glory be, and who is it you're bringing home with you?"
Sunny Boy blinked. The room was hot and the glaring light blinded him. He was dizzily aware that a great many people stood around staring at him.
Tim pulled his hand free.
"The rest of you get back," he commanded his family sternly. "Where's Ma? This kid's lost, and if you don't want him crying again, keep away till Ma's had a chance to tell him what's what."
Then from out another room stepped a large woman with a great kind red face. She was drying her hands on her apron, and she had evidently been washing, for her purple wrapper was splashed with soap-suds. But her voice went right to Sunny's heart.
"Lost, is it?" she said tenderly. "Saints above, what a baby to be out alone in this city! An' his poor mother, the saints pity her she'll be that wild. There, there, dearie,you're all right. A bit of supper's what you're needin'. And then 'tis Timmie himself who shall be taking ye home."
She gathered Sunny Boy into her capacious lap and crooned over him in the deep rich voice that her own six children knew and loved without realizing its charm.
"'Tis a cruel city to the babies," she sighed, smoothing Sunny Boy's hair with a touch as gentle as that of his own mother's. "But your poor mother—the saints help her. Timmie, ye must not be waiting a minute. Come, Theresa, give him a sup of stew. We must be taking him home before the heart of the mother is broke entirely."
Tim, who had been noisily washing at the sink, was frowning into the cracked mirror above it as he tried to part his hair exactly in the center.
"I want to telephone first," he explained. "He's after giving me such a crazy name—Sunny Boy, I've doped it out that he belongsat the McAlpin Hotel, but there's no reason why I should make a fool of myself by taking him 'way down there and then being told that no child is lost from there."
A pretty, dark-haired girl, Sunny Boy called her a young lady in his mind, was stirring something at the stove. She wore a pink blouse and was smiling.
"I'll bring him some stew over there, Ma," she suggested. "The children have mussed up the table pretty well, and they'd take his appetite away with their eyes. Can't you stand back a bit?" she demanded of the four children, three little boys and a girl, who stood in a ring about Sunny Boy and their mother, gazing fixedly at the stranger.
"I'll eat first, I guess," decided Timmie. "I didn't get me a crumb of lunch, and after I've told his folks he's safe they'll be wanting to see him the next minute. Just give me a taste of the stew on some bread, Theresa."
Theresa had already taken her mother aplate for Sunny, and now she gave her brother his supper. The stew was hot and really delicious, and Sunny Boy was sure he had never tasted anything so good. Mrs. Harrity held the plate for him and patted him now and then as he ate. The Harrity children edged nearer and nearer, till a frown from their mother drove them back.
"Going now," announced Tim, seizing his cap.
He slammed the door with such force that the plates on the table rattled, but no one seemed to mind it. They could hear him cheerfully whistling as he clattered downstairs.
Theresa put some water on to heat for the dishes, and came over near her mother and Sunny Boy. She took the little girl on her lap.
"Timmie will help you all right," she assured Sunny Boy, nodding and smiling at him encouragingly. "Tim's a great lad forseeing things through. How did he come to find you?"
Sunny Boy explained.
"Well, well," said Mrs. Harrity. "If you're not used to it, the subway's built for confusin' ye. But Marty there, he's seven next birthday, he can get about as well as the next one."
Marty grinned and wriggled uneasily.
"I'm five," said Sunny Boy conversationally.
"Five now, well, well," repeated Mrs. Harrity. "Rose over there is five. Jim's eight and Thomas, he that's licking the gravy spoon, is nine. An' a fine, noisy bunch they do be. The kettle is boilin', Theresa."
Theresa put her little sister down, and rolling back the sleeves of her pink waist, began to gather up the dishes. Thomas had to be made to give up the gravy spoon, which he was apparently enjoying very much.
Theresa had just poured the water over the dishes in the pan and was folding up the tablecloth, when the noise of some one falling upstairs startled them.
"That's Timmie," declared Mrs. Harrity excitedly. "The boy's in such a hurry to tell his news he can't wait to walk. He'll be prayin' for wings. Open the door, Marty."
Tim dashed in, so out of breath that for several seconds he couldn't tell them the news. When he could speak, he fairly danced up and down, snapping his fingers at Sunny Boy to emphasize his words.
"It's all right!" he gasped. "I found 'em, Ma. They want me to bring Sunny Boy right down. They were just going to the police—seems they spent an hour or two riding up an' down in the subway looking for him and asking all the guards."
The Harritys had all gathered in a circle again.
"Let the kid breathe," protested Tim. "Say, Ma, I had a great time getting 'em. I called the hotel, and the switchboard operator thought I was stringing her. I knew that 'Sunny Boy' was a fool name to tell anybody, but when she got fresh I made her give me the clerk.
"'Has anybody down there lost a child?' I asks. 'There's a boy at my house says his name's Sunny Boy and he's lost.'"
"'Well, find out the rest of his name,' snaps the clerk. And say, young feller," Tim pretended to glare at Sunny Boy, "next time you get lost you want to have a name folks can get quicker than the one you're wearing now."
"Hurry up," urged Theresa impatiently. "Did you find his mother?"
"I'm hurrying," retorted Tim. "Leave a feller alone, can't you? I heard the clerk say to some one. 'Here's a nut says he hasa lost child; you don't know anything about it, do you?'"
"I couldn't hear what the other one said, and then, all of a sudden, some one shouts. 'For the love of Pete, hold that wire! Are you dumb? The Hortons lost their kid in the subway coming down this afternoon.'"
"Then what happened?" asked Theresa.
"Nothing much," answered Tim, who like some other story tellers always stopped short when the story got exciting. "The clerk told me to hold the call, and I heard him ordering the girl to put me on another wire. A man answered, an' he didn't give me time to say more than 'Sunny Boy' when he sang out; 'All right, Mother, the boy's been found.' Then I told him where we were, and he says should he send a taxi, but I told him the subway'd make better time. We can take an express. And that's about all, I guess."
"Well you must be hurrying off," said Mrs. Harrity. "Let me polish his face a bit, so they won't think he's been neglected entirely, an' then the two of yese must be goin'. 'Tis glad I am that his mother won't have to live through a night wondering if harm's come to him."
Mrs. Harrity washed Sunny Boy's face and hands carefully and brushed his hair with a brush that was probably the family hairbrush and certainly showed signs of much use. She kissed him heartily when he was ready, and he put his arms about her neck and hugged her.
"Hurry up," urged Tim, pulling him toward the door. "Cut the good-byes short, for I can't be accused of wasting time on this trip."
"Tim," whispered Theresa, "Timmie, you sure you have enough?"
Tim rattled the change in his pockets by way of answer.
"Plenty," he said proudly. "I wasn't after giving Ma any to-night. When I come back I'll fix it up with her. We're off now—watch your step."
The whole Harrity family stood at the top of the stairs and watched them go down.
"Good-bye!" cried the children, losing their shyness as Sunny Boy went further away. "Good-bye, Sunny Boy!"
Sunny Boy waved his hand. Tim was hurrying him down so fast that he was in danger of tripping if he turned. At the very foot of the stairs he stopped and looked up. Mrs. Harrity was leaning over the railing.
"A blessin' on ye, darlin'," she called. "Good-bye."
N
ow you hang on to me," commanded Tim, as he and Sunny Boy went down the subway steps into the warm, moist air of the station. "I don't aim to lose you changing, and we have to change, 'cause this ain't an express station."
Sunny Boy obediently "hung on to" Tim, keeping so close beside him that several times it was inconvenient, as when people tried to get past them at the door of the car. The train was crowded, and the two boys had to stand.
"We change here," warned Tim, when they reached the express station. "Look sharp!"
Sunny Boy breathed a sigh of relief when they were safely on the express train; he didn't trust himself to change cars.
"You look kind of beat out," commented Tim, eyeing his charge critically when they were near their last stop. "I s'pose you've done more going to-day than you're used to. Never mind, we're most there now.
"I wonder," Tim said, when they reached the entrance of the McAlpin Hotel a few minutes later, "will I have to go in and let that bunch look me over? I didn't bring my dress suit, and I ain't exactly crazy about giving 'em something to stare at."
Sunny Boy's little heart understood. Tim was ashamed of his shabby clothes, and he knew that the bright lights would make his worn coat reveal every spot and hole.
"Mother won't care," Sunny assured him. "Come on, Tim, I'll show you."
So it was Sunny Boy who pulled Tim into the foyer, and even then Tim would havebacked out if, almost the instant they entered the door, some one had not come running to them.
"Oh, my baby!" cried Sunny Boy's mother, gathering him up and hugging him.
Tim felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked up to find Sunny Boy's father smiling down at him.
"You look as if you might cut and run," said Mr. Horton cheerfully. "And you and I must have a little talk first. Olive, here's the chap who found Sunny Boy."
Mrs. Horton, still holding Sunny Boy in her arms, smiled with wet dark eyes at Tim.
"She certainly was pretty," said Tim afterward to his mother. "Tall as Theresa, and young and dressed up nice and all. But she shook hands with me just as if I was a friend of hers. I guess all mothers are nice and friendly."
By this time a little crowd had gatheredabout the Hortons, for many of the guests at the hotel had heard that Sunny Boy was lost and they wanted to tell his father and mother how glad they were that he was safely found. Tim began to get decidedly restless.
"I got to go," he whispered to Mr. Horton. "Ma won't know what's keeping me. 'Sides I have to be up at five in the morning to cover my paper route."
"Olive," said Mr. Horton to his wife, "suppose you take the boy up. I want to have a little talk with Tim" (for Sunny of course had told them his name) "and we're going into the grill room where there won't be so many people. I guess we can have a bite to eat if we have had supper."
"And we had Welsh rabbit and coffee," Tim recounted to his admiring family later that night. "The grill room's just a restaurant. I'll bet that waiter didn't want me coming in there looking like a tramp, butMr. Horton never let on I looked any different from the rest of 'em."
Sunny Boy and his mother went up in the elevator, and after they were in their room, while she undressed him, "for," she said, "I'm so glad to have my baby back I must undress him and put him to bed just as I used to when he was really a baby," he told her about the Harritys and how he had met Tim.
"We rode up and down in the subway, hunting for you," explained Mrs. Horton. "Daddy asked every guard, and I even asked the ticket sellers if they had seen a little boy in a blue suit. Then we thought you might have remembered the name of the hotel, and we hurried back here in case you should manage to get here before we did."
"Did you cry?" asked Sunny Boy, patting her cheek, as he lay in her lap.
"Yes, I did," admitted Mother softly. "Poor Daddy had a hard time of it. But,darling, we won't talk of it any more—you're all right and Mother is very happy. I'll lie down beside you here on the bed till you go to sleep." And going to sleep did not take long.
"Where's Tim?" asked Sunny Boy when he woke up the next morning.
He had slept later than usual, after his exciting day, and Mother was up and dressed and sewing fresh ruffles in her coat over by the window. Daddy was not in the room.
"Good morning, precious," Mrs. Horton greeted him. "You've had a fine long sleep. Daddy has been gone an hour—he had a telephone call before breakfast."
"Did Tim stay all night? Is he here now?" asked Sunny Boy, slipping out of bed and beginning to hunt for his socks and shoes. "Do I have to take a bath, Mother?"
"Yes indeed you do," said Mother. "We are going down town, you and I, on avery important shopping trip, and I want you to be as clean and as fresh as a rose when we start. And if you hurry, I'll tell you about Tim while you are eating your breakfast."
Sunny Boy hurried, and in less than half an hour he was sitting at the table in the big dining room eating breakfast with Mother, who had waited for him.
"Tell me about Tim," begged Sunny Boy when the waiter had brought him his orange and asked him how he felt; the waiter knew he had been lost.
"Well, Daddy had a long talk with Tim last night," said Mrs. Horton. "We wanted to reward him in some way for his kindness to you and his good sense in going about to find where you lived. But Tim wouldn't take any money. He said his mother wouldn't let him."
"Then can't Daddy 'ward him?" asked Sunny Boy disappointedly.
"Listen," said Mrs. Horton. "Daddy got Tim to tell about his family. His mother is a widow with six children, and, dear, she takes in washing. She was washing last night when you were there, clothes for her own children, after having done two big washes at other houses that day. Theresa, who is sixteen, works in a department store, and Tim sells papers before and after school, and sometimes, I am afraid, when he plays hooky. He can't leave school till he is at least fourteen and he is only thirteen now. Of course the other children are too young to help."
"Theresa can cook," announced Sunny Boy. "She made stew."
"Theresa does most everything," returned his mother. "But what she wants to do is to be a dressmaker. And Daddy has prevailed on Tim to let him send her to a trade school where she can learn to sew. Aftershe has graduated, if she wishes, she can pay him back the money. Daddy had to arrange it that way because the Harritys are proud and independent."
"And Tim?" urged Sunny Boy, forgetting to eat his egg.
"Oh, Tim is to go to school, too," said Mrs. Horton. "Daddy knows a man who has a school for boys like Tim where they can work and pay for their education, and if Tim can have three or four years there he will be able to help his mother much more than if he got 'working papers' at fourteen and left school."
"Why didn't he go there before?" demanded Sunny Boy. "If he can pay for it himself, he wouldn't be too poor, would he, Mother?"
"Well, you see, he didn't know about this school," said Mrs. Horton. "And then you must remember that he has been helping his mother. Even the little he earned wassorely needed by Mrs. Harrity. So Daddy had to plan for her, too."
"So she won't have to wash?" suggested Sunny Boy eagerly.
"So she won't have to wash," assented Mrs. Horton. "She is to have an apartment rent-free in exchange for janitor work. A man does the heavier work and has four or five apartment houses to take care of, but they want some one to clean the halls, and so on. Tim said it was what his mother often planned. And then she wants to take in a boarder or two. I told Daddy I didn't see that she was having it any easier, but at least she will have a warm, comfortable home this winter. And Daddy is going to keep an eye on them this winter through New York friends. She must be willing to let us help her till her children are old enough."
Sunny Boy finished his breakfast rather soberly. He was learning that all littleboys didn't have the many nice things he had. Marty and Thomas, for instance, had they had the kind of breakfast he had just had?
"And we're going shopping," Mother reminded him, as she led the way out of the dining room. Perhaps she guessed what he was thinking. "You see, Daddy did all this for you and for me, but we want to give the Harritys something, don't we?"
"Oh, yes!" Sunny Boy was all smiles. "Let's, Mother! But what shall we buy?"
"I thought I'd send something nice to Mrs. Harrity and Theresa, and you would choose something for each of the children," explained Mrs. Horton. "We'll go right out now and see what we can find."
When they reached the corner Mrs. Horton was confused for a moment. She couldn't remember whether to turn up or down to get to the particular shop she wanted.
"I'll find out," said Sunny Boy.
Before she could stop him, he had dashed out into the middle of the street and was speaking to the tall policeman who directed traffic from the center of the street. He was so tall that he had to bend down to hear what Sunny Boy was saying.
Mrs. Horton, on the curb, saw him laugh, then point up the street and, as Sunny Boy started back to her, the policeman blew his whistle and stopped the traffic till Sunny Boy was safely across.
"What made you do that?" demanded Mrs. Horton. "It's never safe to run out into the street like that. I didn't know you were even going."
"Daddy and I know that p'liceman," said Sunny Boy calmly. "He s'lutes us—sometimes. I asked him which way to go, and he showed me. That's why they stand in the middle of the street, Mother; to show people where to go."
"What did you say that made him laugh?" Mrs. Horton asked, as she and Sunny Boy started to walk in the direction the policeman had pointed. "You were so little, Sunny, and he was so tall, I don't see how you ever heard each other."
Sunny Boy was puzzled for a minute.
"Did he laugh?" he said. "Oh, yes, I 'member. I asked him please not to step on me. His feet are pretty big when you're close to him."
"And here is the store," smiled Mrs. Horton. "Your policeman knew where we wanted to go, didn't he? Begin now and think what you would want most if you were Tim Harrity."
S
unny Boy thought about what Tim would like all the while Mrs. Horton was buying things for Mrs. Harrity. He wondered, too, why she bought such queer articles—sheets and towels and pillow cases.
"Because, precious," she explained when he asked her, "I know Mrs. Harrity will want to have things clean and comfortable in the new home. And she can not have two or three boarders unless she has bed and table linen. You're not a housekeeper, but she and I understand. And for her very own present, something just for her own use, I'm going to send her this pretty gray bathrobe and slippers."
"And Theresa?" said Sunny Boy, forgetting Tim for the moment.
"Theresa shall have regular shoes and stockings and also a pair of silk stockings and slippers to match," announced Mrs. Horton. "I know what it is to be poor and young and pretty and not have the right things to wear to a party. She can bring the slippers back if they're not the right size."
"How can she go to parties if they're poor?" questioned Sunny Boy curiously.
"Oh, poor people often have the best parties," said his mother. "They always manage to have a good time. And Theresa is going to school, you know, and there will be little affairs now and then to which she'll want to go. Anyway, Son, girls like to have pretty clothes if only to look at."
Sunny Boy didn't know much about girls' clothes, but he liked his mother's pretty dresses. He thought it was nice if Theresa could have some, too.
"I've thought ever so hard," he complained,"but I can't think of a thing to send Tim."
"Let me put on my thinking cap," mused Mrs. Horton. "Tim is thirteen, isn't he? Daddy will see that he has a new suit for school, but wouldn't you like to send him hockey skates? Boys with fathers and mothers and good homes have those things, but I'm sure Tim hasn't; he hasn't even had time to play very much. We'll get him skates, and then he can try for the hockey team at school."
Sunny Boy thought this a fine selection, and he and Mother went upstairs and chose a pair of skates.
"Now there's only Marty and Thomas and Rose and Jim," declared Sunny Boy, when the skates had been ordered and paid for.
Mrs. Horton laughed.
"I should say that was a great many," she said. "I don't see how you remember theirnames. Well, now let's see—Rose must have a new doll and a couple of pretty dresses I think; and for the boys suppose we say good warm school gloves and sweaters and a game apiece, so they won't think you and I choose too useful gifts?"
The gloves and sweaters were bought, and then Sunny Boy picked out three games he thought the boys would like and helped Mother decide about a doll for Rose and a pink dress and a blue one. Then they were through for the morning.
"We'll go back to the hotel for lunch," decided Mrs. Horton. "Daddy may come in. And I must write a note to Harriet this afternoon."
Mr. Horton was waiting for them, and he had great news.
"How would you like to go home day after to-morrow?" he asked.
"Home?" repeated Mrs. Horton. "Why, Harry!"
"Haven't you seen enough of New York?" Mr. Horton asked Sunny Boy, tilting up his chin.
"We-ll," hesitated Sunny, "I guess so. But I did want to see the stuffed birds."
"Stuffed birds?" echoed his father.
"I promised to take him over to the Museum of Natural History," Mrs. Horton explained. "But of course, Daddy, if you are ready to go, we are."
"Well, I'm through a week earlier than I expected," said Mr. Horton. "And if you can be ready by Friday, there's no reason why we should stay longer."
"I'm anxious to get Sunny Boy started in school," answered Mrs. Horton thoughtfully. "We'll wire Bessie to have Harriet open the house, and I have very little packing to do. Yes, we'll be ready easily by Friday."
Mr. Horton was consulting a time table.
"I'd like to go down to the station thisafternoon," he said, "and see about reservations. The hotel will do it, of course, but I like to attend to such matters myself. Suppose you and Sunny Boy go with me and then go on to the Museum."
So after lunch Sunny Boy and his mother went over to the big Pennsylvania Station with Daddy and waited for him to get their tickets for Centronia.
"It's the biggest place," observed Sunny Boy. "And such lots and lots of people!"
"I dare say we could stand here all day, or a week for that matter, and never see a soul we knew," returned Mrs. Horton.
"Why Mother!" Sunny Boy almost shouted in his excitement, "there's somebody we know this minute—over there by that window. It's Joe Brown!"
"We'll go over and speak to him," said Mrs. Horton.
As they came up to the window they heard the ticket agent speaking to the boy.
"Seven sixty-five, one way to Centronia," said the agent.
"But I don't want a parlor car seat or nothing," protested Joe Brown.
"That doesn't count in a Pullman," retorted the agent. "Seven sixty-five one way, I tell you."
Joe Brown shuffled his shabby feet uneasily.
"How—how—how little do you have to be to get half-fare?" he blurted.
"A sight smaller than you are," snapped the agent. "Do you want a ticket or not?"
Joe Brown looked at the crumpled wad of dirty bills and loose change in his hand.
"I guess I won't take it just now," he mumbled, and turned away.
"Hello, Joe!" Sunny Boy pounced upon him gleefully, having waited till this minute only because his mother had held him back. "How are you?"
"Pretty well, thank you," answered Joe politely, flushing a little.
"Joe, do you want to go home?" asked Mrs. Horton gravely. "I overheard you talking with the ticket agent. Haven't you enough money?"
Joe Brown looked at her quickly, then away again.
"I would kinda like to go home," he admitted.
"Oh, Joe!" Mrs. Horton cried half impatiently, half laughing. "Come over here and sit down a minute. Now tell me truly. Did you run away, and do you want to go back?"
Joe sat down on one side of her, and Sunny Boy scrambled into the seat on the other side. He leaned over her shoulder to listen.
"Well, yes, I did run away," confessed Joe humbly. "That is, I meant to go see my Aunt Annabell, and write the folks fromher house. But she had moved, honest she had; I couldn't locate her nowhere. And then I thought I'd get me a job and wear new clothes home. But New York isn't such an easy place to get along in. These don't look much like new clothes."
Mrs. Horton glanced at the shabby suit.
"But your mother, Joe?" she urged. "Haven't you written to her?"
"I sent her postals telling her not to worry," answered Joe.
"And now you want to go home?" asked Mrs. Horton.
Sunny Boy, watching the careless, slouching Joe, was surprised to see great tears come into his eyes suddenly. He tried to wipe them away with his coat sleeve.
"I want to go home!" he choked. "It's been an awful long time, and I'm so lonesome—and there's my mother!"
Sunny Boy's mother tucked a clean little white handkerchief into Joe's hand.
"Don't cry," she said kindly. "We'll see that you get home. Here comes Mr. Horton. He'll make it all right."
When Mr. Horton heard that Joe wanted to go home, he said it was the "easiest thing in the world."
"I'll get your ticket and see you on the train," he promised. "There's a local leaving in half an hour. You'll be in Centronia by eight o'clock to-night."
"But I haven't enough money," faltered Joe.
"I'll lend it to you," said Mr. Horton, just as he would speak to a business friend. "Then next week you come down to the office and we'll talk things over. How will that do?"
Joe said he guessed it was all right, and while he and Mr. Horton went off to buy the ticket, Mrs. Horton and Sunny Boy bought a bag of fruit and sandwiches for Joe to have on the train.
"He looks half starved," commented Mrs. Horton. "Won't his mother enjoy getting him a good meal!"
"When you going home?" Joe Brown asked, as they walked with him to the train gate. "Wish it was now."
"We're coming to-morrow," said Mrs. Horton, "Say good-bye to Joe, precious. He'll be home before you are."
Joe shook hands awkwardly with Sunny Boy and then with Mr. and Mrs. Horton.
"I sure am obliged to you," he said shyly.
They watched him pass through the gate and down the platform, and saw a brakeman point to the train he was to board. At the steps Joe turned again, and waved to them.
"I'm glad he's out of New York," declared Mr. Horton. "This city is no place for a friendless boy. And now you and Sunny Boy go on up to the Museum, and I'll see you at dinner."
Sunny Boy enjoyed another ride on top of his beloved bus, and then he and Mother spent a couple of busy and happy hours looking at the wonderful exhibits in the Museum of Natural History.
"Jack said to see the birds," Sunny insisted, for Jack, the bell-boy at the hotel, had his own ideas as to what was worth seeing in New York.
After the birds came the Eskimo cases, and after them, those given over to the American Indians. And then, quite by accident, Sunny Boy and his mother came to the exhibits of the marvelous gigantic creatures that were the animals of this world centuries ago.
"My goodness!" gasped Sunny Boy, startled, when he caught his first glimpse of a creature labeled with a long name that he couldn't hope to read. "What's that, Mother?"
"That's the way the animals used tolook," said Mrs. Horton smiling. "You'd be surprised, wouldn't you, if when you went to take a walk some morning you saw this great thing coming over the field toward you?"
"I wouldn't want to see him," said Sunny Boy decidedly. "Are there more of 'em? Hurry up, Mother, and let's see this one in the corner."
"Now don't dream about any of them," said Mrs. Horton jokingly, as they went down the Museum steps.
"Course not," answered Sunny Boy stoutly. "I never dream—hardly any, I mean. And we're going home to-morrow, aren't we?"
T
he next morning Mrs. Horton did their packing and the trunk was sent early to the station. Sunny Boy was just as excited at the prospect of going home as he had been at the idea of the trip to New York.
"But what will you do all the time at home?" teased Jack the bell-boy, when Sunny Boy went to say good-bye to him.
"Oh, I'm going to school," announced Sunny Boy proudly. "All the children that I know go. Harriet's going to take me till I get used to it, and then Mother says p'haps I can go by myself."
"Would you like to live here?" SunnyBoy asked Mother, when they had found their comfortable seats in the train and it was almost time for it to start.
"Live in New York?" echoed Mrs. Horton thoughtfully. "No, I think not, precious. Though we have had a good time, haven't we?"
Sunny Boy nodded his head.
"I wouldn't like to live here all the time, either," he confided. "I'd rather live in our house."
The train ride was uneventful, and as they had taken an express, they were in Centronia by early afternoon. Aunt Bessie met them at the station.
"Well, well, honey-bunch," she greeted her nephew, hugging him, "I surely have missed you. What do you think of New York?"
"All right," said Sunny Boy, wriggling out of her arms. "Did the children get the post cards I sent them?"
"I think they did," admitted Aunt Bessie gravely. "Ruth Baker talks a great deal about her post-card album, I know. What is this I hear about you going to school?"
Aunt Bessie and Sunny Boy were seated in the tonneau of Mr. Horton's car which Aunt Bessie had driven down to meet him. Mrs. Horton was sitting in the front seat with Mr. Horton who was driving.
"I'm going to school!" beamed Sunny Boy. "Did Mother tell you? And then I can write in ink."
"That will be fine," said Aunt Bessie. "Here's the house, though, and there's Harriet standing on the step."
"Harriet! Harriet! I've come home," yelled Sunny Boy. "And I brought you something! Mother has it in the trunk!"
Harriet came down as the car drew up at the curb and tried to shake hands with Mrs. Horton, carry a suitcase for Mr. Horton and hug Sunny Boy all at once.
"Did you miss me?" demanded Sunny Boy, following her upstairs.
"Miss you? Well, I should say so!" declared Harriet, kissing him again. "Haven't I been up and dusted all your toys every time I came over to see that the house was all right? You'll find them all sitting up there in the playroom waiting for you."
Sunny Boy was very glad to be at home, and after he had inspected his toys he went out into the back yard and whistled for Ruth and Nelson. Ruth was not at home, but Nelson answered and had a hundred questions to ask about New York.
"Say, you remember the boy that took your new hat?" he suddenly reminded Sunny Boy. "Well, I know him. He lives back over in Oak Lane, near where Molly lives."
Molly was the colored woman who did Mrs. Baker's washing.
"Let's go over and get it from him," suggestedNelson. "He won't dare say a word. I'll tell Molly if he does and she'll tell his mother."
Sunny Boy thought it would be nice to have the hat back, so he said he would go with Nelson. After a short walk the boys reached the section where the colored people lived and turned down a street where Nelson said he had seen the colored boy who had taken Sunny's hat.
"There he is now!" shouted Nelson, pointing to a boy sitting on the curbstone.
The boy heard him, looked up and started to run. Sunny Boy and Nelson ran pell-mell after him. As the colored boy dodged round a truck in the street the hat fell off.
"Told you we'd get it!" boasted Nelson, picking it up and holding it triumphantly out to Sunny Boy. "That's the very one, isn't it?"
They carried it home, and Sunny Boy went to find Harriet.
"Got my hat, Harriet," he announced soberly. "Nelson helped me chase the boy that stole it. It fell off."
"Well, you don't seem very joyful over it," commented Harriet. "Where is it?"
Sunny Boy held out the hat silently.
It was spotted, and the brim was crushed, the ribbon band was slashed in several places, and the crown was hopelessly faded from the sun.
"He had it on," explained Sunny Boy. "Somehow, I don't feel much like wearing it any more."
Harriet pulled Sunny Boy down into her lap.
"For a lost hat, I'd consider that one still lost," she told him, laughing. "That boy must have been wearing it rather steady. Don't you care, Sunny, it isn't as if you needed it."
"No, 'tisn't as if I needed it," agreed Sunny Boy, picking up the dilapidated hatand going off to show it to his mother. "I have my new one. Only it's not new any more. But it looks better than this one, I think, a whole lot."
So, like the cat, his hat came back. And now if you want to read what happened to Sunny Boy next and what a busy time the next few weeks were for him, you will have to read the book about him called "Sunny Boy in School and Out."