“Yes, that often happens,” said Mr. Treadwell.

“If we could only find our Uncle Bill he could tell us just what we want to know,” said Mart.  “But I don’t know where he is.”

“Could he, by any chance, be in this Blind Home just outside of your town?” asked the actor.

“No, I thought of that, and inquired,” said Mr. Brown.  “There is no person named Clayton in the place.  Well, we’ll just keep on hoping.”

The weather was now getting colder.  Thanksgiving came, and there were jolly good times in the Brown home.  Mart and Lucile said they had never had such a happy holiday since their own folks were with them, and Mr. Treadwell, who was invited to dinner, told such funny jokes and stories, making believe he was a colored man, or an Irishman, at times, that he had every one laughing.  Bunker Blue came to dinner also, and he said he had had as much fun as if he had been to the theater.

“You’ll come to our show, won’t you, Bunker?” asked Bunny, when he could eat no more.

“Oh, sure, I’ll come!” said the fish boy.  “And I’ll clap as loud as I can when you get in the water trough.”

“I’m not going to get in,” decided Bunny.  “I’m going to let Charlie Star do that—­he’s smaller ’n I am.”

The children were given their parts for the farm play, and they practiced whenever they had a chance over the garage.  The scenery was still stored there, and Mr. Brown was trying to find a place in town large enough for the show to be given.

It was one evening after a day of practice, and while Bunny, Sue, and the others in the Brown house were talking about the play, that a ring came at the front door.

“Oh, maybe that’s a special delivery letter to say our uncle and aunt have been heard from!” exclaimed Lucile.

“Oh, if it should be!” murmured Sue, hopefully.

But it was Mr. Raymond, the hardware store keeper, in whose place Wango the monkey had once got loose.

“Good evening, Mr. Brown,” was Mr. Raymond’s greeting as he came in.  “I heard you were looking for a place for the children to give some sort of entertainment—­is that so?”

“Yes,” was the answer.  “I did hope we might get the old moving picture theater, but that’s been sold, and I really don’t know what to do.  We have the scenery, the children have nearly learned their parts, but we have no place to give the show.”

“Well, I’ve come to tell you where you can find a place,” said the hardware man, and Bunny and Sue clapped their hands in delight.

CHAPTER XI

THE STRANGE VOICE

“This is very kind of you, I’m sure, Mr. Raymond,” said Mr. Brown.  “I didn’t know there was any place in town I hadn’t thought of.  The church will hardly do, and the Opera House costs too much to hire for a simple little play.  The town meeting hall is too small, and I was thinking we’d have to get a tent, perhaps.