though it certainly
takes them a long while to find out about it. But there must be
something wrong. Either they have not seen our advertisements, or they
have gone far away."

"Can't we ever spend any of the money?" asked Russ.

"Well, maybe, some day, if we don't find the owner," said his father.

The children went in bathing, and then had lunch at an open-air
restaurant. And such appetites as they had! The salt air seemed to make
them hungry, even if they had eaten the sandwiches brought from home.

"Now I want some more rides on the merry-go-round," said Margy, after
they had taken in some other amusements. "I want to ride on the rooster
this time. He's bigger than the rooster at Grandma Bell's, but he's nice
and red."

Among the creatures in the merry-go-round machine was a big, wooden
rooster, painted red, with his beak open just as if he were going to
crow. Margy had ridden on a horse and on a lion, and now she wanted the
rooster.

"Well, you may have just one more ride," said her mother. "But don't
tease for any more."

"Why not?" Margy wanted to know.

"Because it might make you ill, my dear," said Mrs. Bunker. "Too much
riding, when you go around in a circle that way, may upset your stomach.
One ride more will be enough, I think."

Margy agreed to be content with one, but when that was over she had
enjoyed it so much that she teased and begged for just one more.

"Oh, let her have it, Mother!" suggested Rose. "We'd all like another
ride. And I'll sit beside Margy in one of the seats, and then maybe it
won't make her sick."

Margy didn't look ill, and she seemed to be enjoying herself.

"Well, this is a sort of play-day," said Daddy Bunker, "and I want you
children to have a good time. I don't suppose one more ride will do any
harm," he said to his wife. "And, I'll try to keep out of the poorhouse
until we can use the sixty-five dollars in the pocketbook Rose found,"
and he laughed.

"Well, if you say it's all right I suppose it is," agreed his wife. "But
this is, positively, the last ride!"

So the children got their tickets, and Margy and Rose took their seats
in a little make-believe chariot, drawn by a green camel.

The music began to play, the merry-go-round began to turn and once more
the children were having a good time. In chairs near the big machine
Daddy and Mother Bunker and Aunt Jo waved to the children each time they
came around.

The turn was almost over when Mrs. Bunker happ