almost at the end of our trip. Sit down by Mother and see your first
glimpse of one of the largest cities in the world."

Sunny Boy scrambled into his place again, but Joe Brown was still in
his thoughts. Presently he heard his father speaking in a low voice to
his mother.

"Olive, I believe that young scamp, the Brown boy, is running away
from home. He has it written all over him. I wish we could keep an eye
on him."

"But Mrs. Brown has a sister who lives in New York," said Sunny Boy's
mother. "He may really be going to visit her."

"Perhaps," admitted Mr. Horton doubtfully.

There was no time to say more just then for the train rushed down from
daylight into what was next to darkness.

"Oh!" cried Sunny Boy, "where are we going, Mother? Are we in a
cellar?"

"We are going down under the Hudson River into New York," explained
Mrs. Horton. "That will save us the trouble of going over on a
ferryboat."

Sunny Boy was very much interested in the ride under the river and
asked many questions.

"I should think the river would leak in on us," he remarked. "And we
haven't any umbrellas along."

"We are perfectly safe," his father assured him.

Then in a few minutes the bustle of getting ready to leave the train
began.

"We'll take a taxi," announced Mr. Horton, holding his wife's coat for
her. "Take Mother's hand, Sunny. Careful, now."

Down the steps on to the platform, where Mr. Horton gave the suitcases
to a porter, and they joined a steady stream of people all going in
one direction.

CHAPTER IV

GOING SHOPPING

"Oh, look! There's a bus! Let's ride on top," cried Sunny Boy,
pointing out toward the street as one of the Fifth Avenue busses
lumbered into sight.

"But our taxi is here," reasoned Mr. Horton, helping in Sunny Boy's
mother as he spoke. "And I couldn't go up on top with these heavy
bags. Come, Son, and you shall have your ride to-morrow."

Sunny Boy climbed into the taxi cab, Mr. Horton followed, and they
were on the way to their hotel.

It was a brief ride, but in those few moments Sunny Boy was sure he
had seen more automobiles than he had ever seen in his life. He
probably had, for it was the time of day when the city traffic is
heaviest, and never-ending streams of motor-cars and trucks and wagons
were being driven on the cross streets, as well as on the avenues.

"I feel as if I wasn't here," said Sunny Boy slowly, watching the
crowds from the open window.

Mr. Horton