He came in, covered with snow, and with his traveling bag. The
children's charge upon him would surely have overturned anybody but
Daddy Bunker.
"I scarcely dare come home at all," he shouted up the stairway to his
wife and Aunt Jo, "because of these young Indians. You would think they
were after my very life, if you didn't know that it was my pockets they
want to search."
He shook off the clinging snow and the clinging children until he had
removed his overcoat. Russ grabbed up the bag, and Rose and Laddie each
captured an arm and were fairly carried upstairs by Mr. Bunker. He
landed breathless and laughing with them in the middle of the big room
which Aunt Jo had given up to the six little Bunkers as their playroom
while they visited here in her Back Bay home.
"What is the news, Charles?" asked Mother Bunker, almost as eagerly as
the children themselves might have asked the question.
"I've got to see Armatage personally--that is all there is about it, and
Frank Armatage cannot come North."
"Then you are going?" said his wife, and the children almost held their
several breaths to catch Daddy Bunker's reply.
Their father looked around upon the eager little faces. Then he glanced
at his wife and smiled.
"What do you think?" he asked. "Had I better say before so many little
pop-eyed, curious folk? I--don't--know----"
"Oh, Daddy!" gasped Rose.
Pages:
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37