"It's why don't the tickets get mad when the conductor punches 'em?" Laddie repeated.
"Hum," mused the man. "I don't believe that I know the answer to that riddle. Did you think I did?"
"Well, I—I didn't know," said Laddie slowly. "Nobody seems to know the answer to that riddle. But, you see, I thought you were my father when I took hold of your hand."
"Oh, you did!" and the man laughed and gave Laddie's hand a gentle squeeze. "Well, I thought you were my little boy, for a moment. But then I happened to think that he is away down in New York City, so, you see, it couldn't be my little boy. But are you lost?"
"Oh, no," answered Laddie. "That is, I'm not very much lost. You see, we're going to my Grandma Bell's, and we changed cars here."
"How many of you are going to Grandma Bell's?" asked the man as he stopped in the crowed and began looking around.
"My father and my mother and six of us little Bunkers," answered Laddie.
"Six little Bunkers!" repeated the man. "Is that another riddle?"
"Oh, no. But you see there are six of us. There's Russ and Rose, and Vi and Margy, and then there's me—I'm Laddie—and Mun Bun."
"Mun Bun!" cried the jolly man. "Is that some pet?"