"My horse! My wagon!" he cried. "Somebody ran away with them!"
"No, they didn't, Ike!" said the policeman, who had seen the junk collector before. "Your horse just walked away with this boy, and it's lucky the little chap didn't fall off the seat. Get on now, and drive back where you came from. Where does this boy belong?"
"How should I know?" asked the junkman. "I never saw him before."
"Well, he must have got on the wagon at the last place you stopped," said the officer. "Where was that?"
"Oh, sure! I know what you mean!" exclaimed the junkman. "I know the lady's house. Her automobile man often sells me old papers. I can tell you," and he did, mentioning Aunt Jo's house.
"I'll just take the boy back," said the policeman.
His hand in that of the big policeman, Mun Bun went back gladly enough, and just in time, too, for his mother, looking out and "counting noses" had not seen him with the other children, and, fearing he had wandered away, she was just starting out to look for him.
"Where have you been?" she cried, as she saw Mun Bun with a policeman.
"Oh, I had a nice ride," answered the little boy.
"He was on the junk wagon," Mr. Mulligan explained.