h
there was no framework to this "kite," the wind caused by the rapid
movement of the automobile helped to fly the piece of paper at the end
of the string.

"Look out you don't go overboard," advised Daddy Bunker.

"You hold on to me, Daddy--p'ease," said the smallest Bunker. "You see,
this kite pulls pretty hard."

Russ and Laddie were riding close behind the motor-car, but on the other
side of the trail. The minute after Mun Bun had made his request, a gust
of wind took the kite over to that side of the car and it almost blew
into the face and eyes of Russ Bunker's pony.

[Illustration: MUN BUNS' "KITE" FRIGHTENED THE PINTO.

_Six Little Bunkers at Cowboy Jack's._ (_Page 218_)]

The pinto was very well behaved; but this paper startled him. He shied
and wheeled suddenly to get away from the annoying kite. Instantly Russ
shot over the pony's head and came down asprawl on the ground!

As he flew out of the saddle Russ uttered a shout of alarm, and Pinky,
Laddie's mount, was likewise frightened. Pinky started ahead at a
gallop, and Laddie was dreadfully shaken up. He squealed as loud as he
could, but he managed to pull Pinky down to a stop very soon.

"Wha--what are you doing, Russ Bunker?" Laddie wanted to know. "Is that
the right way to get off a pony?"

Russ had not lost his grip of the bridle-reins, and he scrambled up and
held his snorting pony.

"You know I don't get off that way if I can help it," said Russ
indignantly.

"But you did," said Laddie.

"Well, I didn't mean to. My goodness! but my knee is scratched."

The automobile had stopped, and Mother Bunker called to Russ to ask if
he was much hurt.

"Not much, Mother," he replied. "But make Mun Bun fly his kite somewhere
else. My pony doesn't like it."

"Mun Bun," said Daddy Bunker seriously, "I think you will have to
postpone the flying of that kite until later."

"He'd better," chuckled Cowboy Jack, starting the car again. "First he
knows he'll scare me, and then maybe I'll run the car off the track."

Of course that was one of Cowboy Jack's jokes. He was always joking, it
seemed.

At last they came in sight of the place where the several big scenes of
the moving picture were going to be photographed. A river that the
little Bunkers had not before seen flowed here in a great curve which
Cowboy Jack spoke of as the Oxbow Bend. It was a grassy, gently sloping
field, with not a tree in sight save along the edge of the water.

Nevertheless