“My father and my mother and six of us little Bunkers,” answered Laddie.

“Six little Bunkers!” repeated the man.  “Is that another riddle?”

“Oh, no.  But you see there are six of us.  There’s Russ and Rose, and Vi and Margy, and then there’s me—­I’m Laddie—­and Mun Bun.”

“Mun Bun!” cried the jolly man.  “Is that some pet?”

“No, he’s my little brother,” explained Laddie.  “His real name is Munroe Bunker, but we call him Mun Bun for fun.”

“Oh, I see,” and the man laughed again.  “Six little Bunkers, on a train arrive, one gets lost and then there are five,” he chanted.

“Oh, that’s like ten little Injuns!” laughed Laddie, and though he had picked the wrong daddy out of the crowd of railroad passengers, he didn’t feel at all lost now.

“Yes, it is a little like ’ten little Injuns, standing in a line, one fell out and then there were nine,’” the man went on.  “But are you sure you are not lost?”

“Oh, no.  Only a little,” answered Laddie.  “My real daddy must be around here somewhere.”

“With the rest of the little Bunkers?” asked the man.

“Yes, I—­I guess so,” said Laddie, looking around for his father and mother, as well as brothers and sisters.  “We came on the train from Pineville,” he went on, “and we’re going to Grandma Bell’s.  I stopped to look at some pictures by the news stand and then I——­”

“And then you picked me out of the crowd for your daddy,” finished the man, as Laddie stopped, not knowing what else to say.  “Well, there is no harm done.  And, unless I’m much mistaken, here comes your daddy now, looking for you.”

“Oh, yes!  That is my daddy!” cried Laddie, as he saw his father pushing his way through the crowd, looking on all sides, as if hunting for something—­or for somebody.  Why, to be sure, for Laddie himself!

“Better call to him,” suggested the man.  “I don’t believe he sees you.”

“Here I am, Daddy!” shouted Laddie, and, letting go of the man’s hand, he ran straight into Mr. Bunker’s arms.

“Why, Laddie! where have you been?” asked his father.  “Your mother thought maybe you might have been left on the express train, but I was sure I saw you get off.”

“I did,” Laddie said.  “I walked along but I picked out the wrong daddy.”

“The wrong daddy?” asked Mr. Bunker, not knowing just what to think.  “Is this another riddle, Laddie?”

“He means me,” the man said, coming up just then.  “I believe I got off the same train you did.  Anyhow this little boy came along behind me in the crowd and began asking something about a conductor and punching tickets.”

“That is a riddle, but the other wasn’t,” Laddie explained.  “Only I don’t know the answer.”

“Well, never mind.  You must hurry with me,” said his father, “We missed you, and I had to come back to hunt you up.  The other train is almost ready to start.