erest.

"That's who I am, young man!" answered the hearty voice of the man who
had come through the storm with Aunt Jo. "As soon as I shake off this
fur coat, which has as much snow on it as a grizzly bear gets on him
when he plays tag in a blizzard, I'll have a look at you. There! It's
off. Now where are the children with such curly hair? I want to see
'em!"

"Here they are," answered Daddy Martin. "They were just going to bed to
get up good appetites for the Thanksgiving dinner to-morrow. But I guess
we can let them stay up a little longer. We didn't expect you two until
to-morrow."

"We both managed to get earlier trains than we expected," explained Aunt
Jo.

"And we met each other at the Junction, without expecting to, and came
on together," added Uncle Frank. "Thought we'd give you a surprise."

"Glad you did," returned Mr. Martin. "I was beginning to get afraid, if
the storm kept up, that you wouldn't get here for Thanksgiving."

"Wouldn't have missed it for two dozen cow ponies and a wire fence
thrown in!" laughed Uncle Frank, in his deep voice. "Now where's that
curly hair?"

Jan and Ted, just a little bashful in the presence of their Western
uncle, who did not often leave his ranch to come East, went forward.
Uncle Frank looked at them, ran his fingers through Ted's tightly curled
hair and then cried:

"Oh, I'm caught!"

"What's the matter?" asked Aunt Jo with a laugh.

"My fingers are tangled in Ted's hair and I can't get them loose!" said
Uncle Frank, pretending that his hand was held fast. "Say, I heard your
hair was curly," he went on, after he had finally gotten his fingers
loose, having made believe it was very hard work, "but I never thought
it was like this. And Jan's, too! Why, if anything, hers is tighter than
Ted's."

"Yes; we call them our Curlytops," said Mother Martin.

"And here's another. His hair isn't curly, though," went on Uncle Frank.
"What did you call him?"

"His name is William Anthony Martin," said Aunt Jo. "I know, for I
picked out the name."

"But we call him Trouble," said Ted, who was looking eagerly at his big
uncle from the West, hoping, perhaps, that he might bring out a gun or a
bow and some arrows from the pockets of his fur overcoat. But Uncle
Frank did nothing like that.

"Come out in the dining-room and have something to eat," invited Mr.
Martin.

"No, thank you. Miss Miller and I had supper before we came here,"
answered Uncle Frank. "We knew we'd be