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Sunny Boy wriggled out and turned a flushed face to Grandpa.
"Nothing," he said, beginning to climb into bed.
Grandpa was helping him smooth the tangled covers when one of the ducks began to peep.
"What's that?" said he sharply. "Sunny, what have you got in here? What's that noise?"
"It's a duck," confessed Sunny Boy reluctantly.
Grandpa sat down on the bed.
"A duck? Up here?" he gasped. "Why, how on earth did a duck get in the house?"
"I did it," admitted Sunny. "The duck mother had too many children, and I was going to take care of some of 'em for her. But they wouldn't stay in bed. I could sail 'em in the bath-tub in the mornings."
Grandpa began to laugh, and then he could not stop. He laughed till the tears came, and Mrs. Horton heard him and came up to scold them both.
Grandma followed, and there they all sat on the bed, Grandpa and Mother and Grandma, all laughing as hard as they could.
Sunny Boy did not think it was funny a bit, and when he found that Grandpa was going to take his ducks back to their own mother that night he began to cry.
"By and by they would like it here," he sobbed. "I haven't my woolly dog, and I need a duck. Can't I have one, Grandpa?"
Sunny Boy was far from being a cry-baby, but he was sleepy and that made him feel unhappy, though he thought it was the ducks. That's a trick of the sandman's--making you cry easily when you're sleepy. However this time Grandpa was firm, and he managed to get the duck under the bed and the one back of the bureau and carry them down to their mother. And very glad they were to get there, we may believe. Sunny Boy went to sleep in five minutes, and long before morning had forgotten he ever wanted baby ducks to spend the night with him.
One morning, a week or more later, he was playing on the shady side porch when he heard Grandpa saying something to Mother about bonds. Ever since Sunny Boy had lost his kite and Grandpa's bonds with it, he always noticed when any one used that word. No one ever spoke to him about the lost money, and he often forgot about it, with so many wonderful things to do every day. And then, a word or two would make him remember again.
"I lie awake at night worrying over those bonds, Father," Mrs. Horton was saying. "Harry may be able to make it up to you some day, but he's having a hard time this summer. I've been out and looked and looked--some one must have picked them up."
"Yes, I suppose they have," said Grandpa. "I advertised, and the Bonds were numbered. Still, as you say, some one must have found them. Don't let it spoil your Summer, Olive, I've only myself to blame. At my age carelessness is nothing short of a crime."
"But at your age a thousand dollars is a great deal to lose," protested Mrs. Horton. "And I know you meant to take a trip South this Winter, and Harry tells me you've given that up."
Sunny Boy could hear tears in Mother's soft voice, and he was sure she had tears in her lovely brown eyes. He made up his mind what to do.
He trotted through the wide hall, into the sitting-room. There sat Grandpa figuring at his desk and close beside him was Mother with her knitting. There were bright drops on the dark blue wool. She had been crying, though she smiled at Sunny as he stood in the doorway.
"Grandpa, listen!" Sunny Boy cried. "You can have all the money in my bank at home. I've been saving it for, oh, ever so long. There's a thousand dollars, I guess. An' you can have it all--every bit. Daddy will send it to you if I ask him. An' then you won't care 'bout the Lib'ty Bonds!"
Sunny Boy was surprised at the way his offer was received. He had thought Grandpa would be pleased and his mother, too. And here sat Grandpa blowing his nose, and as for his mother--Sunny Boy looked at her and her eyes were quite br.i.m.m.i.n.g over.
"Don't you like me to?" he cried. "I was going to buy another drum, but Grandpa can have the money. It's a pink pig, Grandpa, and you shake it an' the pennies drop out. Harriet gave it to me." Sunny Boy's lip began to quiver.
"My dear little son!" Mother held out her arms and Sunny Boy ran to her.
"My generous little man!" she whispered. "Your pennies wouldn't be enough, precious. But I'm proud to have you offer them to Grandpa to try to make up his loss. That's like your father."
Sunny Boy sat up and stopped crying. To be like his father was the highest praise his mother could give him.
"Thank you very much, Sunny," said Grandpa gravely. "I couldn't take your bank. For one reason, we're not sure yet the bonds are really lost. But I tell you what I will do--if I ever get out of cash, entirely out, mind you, and have to borrow from my friends, I'll come to you. There are very few I'd bring myself to borrow from, but perhaps it's different with a grandson. You save your pennies, and maybe some day I'll ask you to lend me some. Shall we shake hands on it?"
And Sunny Boy and Grandpa shook hands solemnly, like two business men.
CHAPTER XIV
ANOTHER HUNT
"And now," declared Grandpa, putting on his wide-brimmed hat and reaching for his cane, "it's high time I was out looking after Mr. Hatch. Where are you going, Sunny Boy?"
Sunny Boy was darting off as though a new idea had seized him.
"Out," he answered vaguely. His mind was intent on his plan.
"Well, Grandma and I have the picnic to plan," cried Mrs. Horton gayly.
"If we are going to have that long-promised picnic before we go home, I for one think it is high time we set a day."
Sunny Boy, lingering in the doorway, heard Grandpa grumble a little as he always did if anything was said about their going home.
"No reason why you shouldn't stay here all Summer," he scolded. "Or if you want to be nearer Harry, Olive, leave the boy with us. You know we'd take good care of him."
"I know you would; but I couldn't leave my baby," Mrs. Horton said quickly. "Bessie, my sister, you know, has a plan--"
But Araminta called Sunny just then and he ran off without hearing about Aunt Bessie's plan.
Sunny Boy had a plan of his own, and he was determined to carry it through. This was nothing less than to go and hunt for Grandpa's lost Liberty Bonds.
"For I know that kite fell down right by the old walnut tree," said Sunny Boy to himself for the twentieth time. "I saw it go down--swis.h.!.+ I'll bet Grandpa didn't look under the right tree."
Without much trouble he coaxed a big piece of gingerbread from Araminta--who was very curious to learn where he was going--which he crowded into his pocket. Expecting to be gone a long time, he took an apple from the basket on the dining-room table and two bananas. Bruce, lying on the back door mat, decided to go with him, but Bruce was beginning to get the least little bit fat and old, and when he had followed Sunny as far as the brook pasture and saw that he had no intention of stopping to rest under the trees, that wise collie dog turned and went back to the house.
"Hey, there! Where are you going this hot day?" Jimmie, setting out tomato plants in a side field, shouted to him.
Sunny Boy waved his hand and plodded on. He was a silent child when he had his mind fixed on a certain thing, and he was intent on finding those bonds this morning.
The sun was hot, and when he reached the pretty brook the water looked so clear and cool that Sunny was tempted to go wading. Only he had promised his mother not to go in the water unless some one was with him, and then, too, wading would delay the hunt for the bonds. He walked along the bank until he came to the uneven line of stones piled together to make a crossing.
"I spect it wabbles," said Sunny Boy aloud, putting one foot on a stone, which certainly did "teeter."
He started to cross slowly, and in the middle of the stream his right foot slipped--splas.h.!.+--into the icy cold water.
"My land sakes!" gasped poor Sunny Boy, who was certainly acquiring a number of new words, much to his mother's worry. "I guess that water's as cold as--as our icebox at home."
With one wet foot and one dry foot he finished his journey and landed safely on the other side of the brook. He was hungry by then, and so sat down to eat the gingerbread under a large tree whose roots had grown far out over the water.
"Tick-tack! Tick-tack! Tick--t-a-c-k!" scolded some one directly over his head.
"Don't be cross, Mr. Squirrel!" said Sunny Boy politely. "Grandpa says when you make a noise like that you're either frightened or want folks to go away and not bother you. I'm going in a minute."