“Thank you very much, Bunny, for helping us,” said Mr. Martin, when the boy and dog went off the stage.
“Oh, that’s all right,” said Bunny, with a smile. “Pretty soon I’m going to give a regular show—Sue and some of the fellows and I. And Patter is going to be in that.”
“Then I’ll come to see it and bring as many friends as I can,” promised Mr. Martin.
As the church fair would last rather late and as Mrs. Brown did not want Bunny and Sue to lose too much sleep, she sent them home with Bunker Blue at about half past nine o’clock. Patter went with Bunny, and Sue insisted on carrying Whitefeet to the automobile, in which the trip home was made.
“Are you going to keep that cat?” asked Bunker.
“Course I am. She’s mine!” declared Sue.
“I reckon she is until some one claims her,” said Bunker.
“Maybe nobody will,” suggested Bunny.
And no one did. Where the dear little black kitten, with her four white feet had come from, no one seemed to know. She had “just growed, like Topsy in Uncle Tom’s Cabin,” decided Sue when several days had passed and no one came to take Whitefeet away.
The church fair was a great success, and Bunny Brown and his sister Sue, to say nothing of their pet dog, had a large share in it. The newspaper said so, and that ought to prove it if anything could.