Six Little Bunkers at Grandma Bells | Page 8

the
night an old tramp came in. Don't you remember? He was red-haired."
"Yes, I remember that," said the children's father.
"Well, this tramp said he used to be a lumberman, but he got sick and
had to go to the hospital, and since coming out he couldn't find any
work to do. He said he was in need of a coat, and you called to me to
give him your old one, as you were going to get another. Do you
remember that?"
"Oh, yes! I certainly do!" cried Mr. Bunker. "I'd forgotten all about the
tramp lumberman! And I did tell you to give him my old coat. I forgot
all about having left the papers in it. I was so busy talking to Mr.
Johnson that I never thought about them. And did the tramp take the
coat?"
"He did, Mr. Bunker. And he said to thank you and that he was glad to
get it. He went off wearing it."
"And my papers--worth a large sum of money--were in the pocket!"
exclaimed Mr. Bunker. "I never thought about them, for I was so busy
about selling Mr. Johnson the lumber. It's too bad!"
"I'm sorry," said the clerk. "If I had known the papers were in the old
coat I'd have looked through the pockets before I gave it to the tramp."
"Oh, it wasn't your fault," said Mr. Bunker quickly. "It was my own. I
should have remembered about the papers being in the coat. But do you
know who that tramp was, and where he went?"
"I never saw him before," replied Mr. Donlin, "and I haven't seen him
since. Maybe the police could find him."
"That's it! That's what we'll have to do!" cried Mr. Bunker. "I shall have
to send the police to find the old lumberman; not that he has done
anything wrong, but to get back my papers. He may keep the coat. Very

likely he hasn't even found the papers. Yes, I must tell the police!"
But before Mr. Bunker could do this in came the postman with the mail.
There were several letters for the real estate dealer, and when he saw
one he exclaimed:
"Ah, this is from Grandma Bell! We must see what she has to say!"
Daddy Bunker opened the letter, which was written to him by his wife's
mother--the children's grandmother--and when he had read a few lines,
he exclaimed:
"Oh, ho! Here is news indeed! Good news!"
"Oh, what is it?" asked Russ. "Did grandma tell you in the letter that
the tramp lumberman left your papers at her house?"
CHAPTER IV
FOURTH OF JULY
Daddy Bunker looked at his little boy and girl. And, on their part, Russ
and Rose looked at daddy. They were thinking of two things--the letter
from Grandma Bell and Mr. Bunker's real estate papers that the tramp
lumberman had carried off in the old coat. Russ and Rose didn't know
much about real estate--except that it meant houses and barns and fields
and city lots. And they didn't know much about valuable real estate
papers, but they did know their father was worried about something,
and this made them feel sad.
"Has grandma got your papers?" asked Russ again.
"Oh, no, little Whistler," answered Mr. Bunker with a laugh. "She
doesn't even know I have lost them."
"But what's the letter about?" asked Rose.
"It's a letter from Grandma Bell inviting us all up to her home at Lake

Sagatook, in Maine, to spend part of the summer," answered Mr.
Bunker. "Grandma Bell wants us to come up to Maine, and have a good
time."
"Oh, can we go?" cried Russ, and, for the moment, he forgot all about
his father's lost papers.
"Oh, won't it be fun!" cried Rose. "I love Grandma Bell!"
"Yes, I guess every one who knows her does," said Mr. Bunker, for he
was as fond of his wife's mother as he was of his own, who was the
children's Grandma Ford.
"When can we go?" asked Russ.
"Oh, it's too soon to settle that part," answered his father. "We'll have to
take this letter home and talk it over with mother. Then I must see if I
can't get the police to find this red-haired tramp lumberman who is
carrying those valuable papers around in my old coat. It's queer I never
thought that I put them in the pocket. Very queer!"
"Maybe the tramp will bring them back," said Rose after a bit. "Lots of
times, when people find things, they bring them back."
"Yes, that's so, he might do it, if he is honest," said Mr. Bunker. "But
perhaps he isn't, and maybe he has not yet looked in the pockets of the
coat. But I'll just telephone to the police,