"Could we make one over in Mr. North's yard?" asked Russ. "Maybe he'd like one."
"No, not over there, either," his mother said, trying not to laugh.
So that was how Russ made a fountain, and what happened afterward, and for many a day he and Laddie had fun telling the other little Bunkers what they had done.
As the summer days went by the children had lots of fun at Aunt Jo's. They went downtown to see the sights of Boston, including Bunker Hill monument, saw some nice moving-picture shows and went on excursions.
Meanwhile, Daddy Bunker and others had looked in the paper to see if any one had advertised for a lost pocketbook with sixty-five dollars in it. But no one had.
And to make sure of finding the owner Mr. Bunker put an advertisement in himself, stating that such a purse had been found, and offering to give it to the real owner.
But no one came to claim it. The shabby wallet, with the roll of bills and the sad little letter, was locked in Aunt Jo's safe, waiting for the owner to come. But no one came.
"And can I keep the money?" asked Rose, who inquired, each day, whether any one had yet come for it.
"We'll see," promised her mother.