Six Little Bunkers at Grandma Bell's
   "I don't know—I give up," said Daddy Bunker. "What's the answer?"

   "Oh, I haven't thought of a good answer yet," said Laddie with a laugh. "I just thought of the riddle!"

   And he sat by the window, murmuring over and over to himself:

   "Why don't the tickets get mad when the conductor punches 'em?"

   On and on rumbled the train. They were

   getting near the end of the trip, and the children were counting the time before they would get to the station where they could start to drive to Lake Sagatook and Grandma Bell's house, when the conductor came through the coach and told Mr. Bunker that if he changed cars, and took another train at a junction station, he could save all of an hour.

   "We'll do that," decided the children's father. "We'll change at Clearwell, and get on a train there that will take us to Sagatook earlier." The name of the station where they were to start to drive to grandma's was Sagatook. The lake was five miles back in the woods.

   They were soon near the junction, where two railroad lines came together, and there the Bunkers were to change. They gathered up their belongings and stood ready to get off the car in which they had been nearly a whole day.

   Clearwell was quite a large place, and the station, where the two different railroad trains came in, was a big one. There was quite a crowd getting off the train on which

   the Bunkers had ridden, and more of a crowd on the platform.

   "Follow me!" called Daddy Bunker to his wife and children. "And don't lose any of your bundles."

   He was carrying Mun Bun, while Mrs. Bunker had Margy in her arms. Russ, Rose, Laddie and Vi came along behind.

   Laddie stopped for a moment to look at some pictures on the magazine covers at the news stand, and then, as he gave a quick glance, and saw the others crossing the platform, and leaving him, he ran on to catch up to them.

   He saw a man's hand dangling among others in the crowd, and in another instant, Laddie had grasped it. He thought it was his father's, and he called, above the noise of the crowd:


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