“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, and see if any of them have seen the tramp that came to my office.”

There were not many policemen in Pineville, and most of them knew Mr. Bunker.  He telephoned from his office to the chief, or head policeman, and asked him to be on the watch for a red-haired tramp lumberman wearing an old coat.

“Get me back the papers.  I don’t care about the coat—­he may have that,” said Mr. Bunker.

The chief promised that he and his men would do what they could, and some of the policemen at once began looking about Pineville for the tramp.

“But I guess maybe he has traveled on from here,” said Mr. Bunker, as he came away from the telephone.  “I’m afraid I’ll never see my valuable papers again.”

“Will you be so poor we can’t go to Grandma Bell’s?” asked Russ.  That would be very dreadful, he thought.

“Oh, no, I won’t be as poor as that,” answered Daddy Bunker with a smile.  “We’ll go to see Grandma Bell all right.  But I would like to get those papers.”

He told the clerks in his office and some friends of his about his loss, and they promised to be on the lookout for the tramp.  Then Daddy Bunker took Rose and Russ back home with him, along Main Street, in Pineville.

“Did you find them?” asked Mrs. Bunker anxiously, as she saw her husband coming up the walk toward the house.  “Did you get your papers?”

“No,” he answered.  “I forgot that I had given the old coat to a tramp, and the papers were in one of the pockets,” and he told his wife what had happened at the real estate office.

“And we got a letter from Grandma Bell!” exclaimed Rose as soon as she had a chance to speak.

“And we’re going to see her—­up to Lake Sagatook, in Maine,” added Russ.

“No?  Really?” cried Mrs. Bunker in delight.  “Did you get a letter from mother?” she asked her husband.

“Yes, it came to me at the office,” he answered, giving it to his wife.

“Do you think we can go?” she asked, when she had read the letter.

“Why, yes, I guess so,” slowly answered Mr. Bunker.  “It will do you good and the children good, too.  We’ll go to Grandma Bell’s!”

“Oh, goody!” cried Russ, and he began to whistle a merry tune.  Rose started to sing a little song, and then she said: 

“Oh, but I must go in and help set the table!” for she often did that, as Norah had so much else to do at meal-time.

“All right, Little Helper!” said Mother Bunker with a smile.  “We can talk about the trip to grandma’s when we are eating supper.”

Some of the other children heard the good news—­the loss of the real estate papers did not bother them, for they were too little to worry; but they loved to hear about Grandma Bell.