Six Little Bunkers at Aunt Jos | Page 9

to know no little girl belongs on this trip. The door was open, and I looked in," went on the mate. "On the bunk, which is what we call the beds on a steamer," he told Russ, "I saw a little girl with dark hair curled up in a heap. She seemed to be asleep, and there was a little white poodle dog with her."
"A little white poodle dog!" exclaimed Mr. Bunker. "Then I'm afraid it can't be my little girl. We have no white poodle dog."
"Maybe Margy found one, Daddy, and that's why she didn't come with us," said Russ.
"Better take a look at this little girl," went on the mate. "She seems to be all alone in this stateroom, and she may be yours."
"We'll look," said Mr. Bunker. "But I hardly think it can be Margy."
He followed the mate, holding Russ by the hand so the little boy would not get lost, though Russ was almost too big for this.
"Here she is," said the mate, as he came to a stop at an open door of a stateroom. And there, on the clean, white bunk, curled up with one arm around a white poodle dog was a little girl, whose dark hair mingled with the white coat of the poodle.
"Oh, it is Margy!" exclaimed Russ.
"Yes, so it is," said Mr. Bunker. "Thank you," he added to the captain's helper. "Now we are all right. We have found our lost little girl."
"I was wondering to whom she belonged," said the mate. "And I was going to tell the captain about her. Now I won't have to."
When Mr. Bunker and Russ went into the room, the little poodle dog raised up his head, opened one eye, and wagged his little stump of a tail, as if he were saying:
"It's all right. You don't need to worry. I'm taking care of Margy and she's taking care of me."
And it was Margy asleep in the bunk! Poor, tired, sleepy little Margy Bunker.
"My dear little girl," said Daddy Bunker softly, as he took her up in his arms. "We were so worried about you. Where have you been?"
"I--I founded a little dog," said Margy sleepily, as she put her head down on her father's shoulder. "He was a little white dog an' I loved him an' I went with him an' we went to--went to--we----"
And then Margy herself went to where she was trying to tell her daddy she had gone--to sleep.
"We'll ask her about it in the morning," said Mr. Bunker. "I'll carry her to her mother now, so she won't be anxious any more."
Margy was in slumberland once more, and so was the little white poodle dog. He just looked up, with one eye, when he saw Mr. Bunker carrying his little girl away, and then doggie went to sleep again also.
"Aren't you glad we found Margy?" asked Russ, as he walked back with his father to where Mrs. Bunker and the other children were waiting.
"Indeed I am," said Margy's daddy.
"Where was she?" asked Mrs. Bunker, as she saw her lost little girl.
"She had wandered into some other stateroom, and had gone to sleep," Mr. Bunker answered.
"And the little poodle dog was asleep with her," added Russ.
"Where's the little poodle dog?" demanded Laddie, who was almost asleep himself.
"Oh, we couldn't bring him," Russ said. And then his father told how Margy had been found.
The little girl was still too sleepy to talk, so her mother undressed her and put her to bed.
"We can ask her in the morning what happened," she said.
Now the six little Bunkers were together again, and happy once more, and Mr. and Mrs. Bunker were no longer worried. They all went to bed, and then the steamer traveled through the night, getting to Boston the next day.
The children were awake early, and when they were dressed they went out on deck. They had breakfast on board, in the big dining-saloon.
"When shall we get to Aunt Jo's?" asked Rose, as she helped her mother pick up some of the things the other children had scattered about the stateroom.
"We'll be there in time for dinner," said Mr. Bunker. "But we haven't yet heard what happened to Margy. Why did you go to sleep in the strange bed?" he asked his little girl.
"'Cause I wanted the doggie," she answered. And then she told how it had happened, though they had to ask her many questions to get the whole story.
Soon after coming on board the steamer Margy, walking a little distance apart from the other little Bunkers, had seen the white poodle dog running about the deck. She made friends with him, and when the dog, who belonged to an elderly lady passenger, went off by himself, Margy followed.
The poodle went into the stateroom where his mistress was to sleep,