"How'd he know your name was Brown?" asked Sadie in a whisper of Sue.
"He saw it painted on my father's boat house," said Bunny. "Everybody knows our name—I mean our last name," and this was true, at least of the folks in Bellemere. They all knew Bunny Brown and his Sister Sue.
"I know your father does not sell horses for a business," went on the gypsy with the gold rings in his ears; "but perhaps, maybe, he has a horse he drives, and would like to get another for it, or sell it. We gypsies, you know, buy and sell horses as your father buys and sells boats and catches fish."
"Do you ever catch any horses?" asked Sue. "And do you catch them in a net?"
"Well, no, not exactly," and the gypsy smiled at her. "We get them in different ways—we trade for them. Perhaps your father has a horse he wants to trade."
"No, he hasn't any horse, except the one that pulls the fish wagon down to the depot," said Bunny, for Mr. Brown did own a slow, old horse, that took the iced fish to the train. "But I don't guess he'd sell him," Bunny went on.
"All right, I ask next door," said the gypsy, and he was turning away when, back in the yard, sounded the ringing of a bell. The gypsy turned quickly, and looked at the children.
"Oh, that's Toby, and he's ringing for us to come back and play with him!" cried Sue.
"Is Toby your brother?" asked the gypsy.
"No, he isn't our brother," Bunny answered, and he was laughing at the funny idea when Toby, the Shetland pony himself, came walking around the corner of the house.