Margy, or Margaret, was five years old, and almost as dark as a little Gypsy girl.  Margy and Mun Bun usually played together, and they had a great deal of fun.  Lest you might think “Mun Bun” was some kind of candy, I will say that it was the pet name of Munroe Ford Bunker, and it was shortened to Mun Bun as the other was too long to say.  Mun Bun was rather small, even for his age of four years.  He had blue eyes and golden hair and looked almost as I have an idea fairies look, if there are any real ones.

So there you have the six little Bunkers.  When they were at home, they lived in the town of Pineville, on the Rainbow River.  Mr. Bunker was a real estate dealer, whose office was about a mile from his home.

In the first book of the series I told you of a trip the Bunkers took to Grandma Bell’s at Lake Sagatook, in Maine.  Grandma Bell was Mrs. Bunker’s mother, and in the Maine woods the children had so many good times that it was years before they forgot them.  They had quite an adventure, too, with a tramp lumberman, who had a ragged coat, but I will not spoil that story by telling it to you here.

Before the Bunkers left Grandma Bell’s they received an invitation to visit Aunt Jo in Boston, and they were at her Back Bay home when the present story opens.

There had been adventures in Boston, too, and the pocketbook which Rose found, with sixty-five dollars in it, was quite a mystery for a time.  But, finally, the real owner was discovered, and very glad she was to get the money back.

“Well, we have had good times here at Aunt Jo’s,” said Mrs. Bunker to her husband, when they had read all the letters that had come in the mail.  “And now it is time for us to go.  I think we shall enjoy our stay at Cousin Tom’s.”

“It will be fine for the children,” said their father.

“Yes, they are already counting on digging gold out of the sand,” said Mrs. Bunker with a laugh.  “Sammie Brown has been telling them some story about buried treasure his father found.”

“Well, I believe that is a true story,” said Mr. Bunker.  “I heard my sister say something about Mr. Brown having been shipwrecked on an island once, and coming back with gold.  But if we go to Cousin Tom’s we shall have to begin packing soon, shall we not?” he went on.

“Yes,” agreed his wife.  “We are to leave about the middle of next week.”

“We have been doing a great deal of traveling so far this summer,” went on Mr. Bunker.  “Here it is about the middle of August, and we have been at Grandma Bell’s, at Aunt Jo’s and we are now going to Cousin Tom’s.  I had a letter from Grandpa Ford, saying that he wished we’d come there.”

“And my brother Fred is anxious to have us come out to his western ranch,” said Mrs. Bunker.  “If we accept all the invitations we shall be very busy.”

So Mr. and Mrs. Bunker talked over the time of leaving, what they would need to take, and the best way of going.  Meanwhile Laddie had run back to tell his brothers and sisters the good news.