But he could look right through the spokes of the spinning wheel, near which Mun Bun was standing, and see no one except his little brother. And the bobbed, golden hair of Mun Bun still stuck straight out behind him, as stiff as if the wind were blowing it, or as if some one had hold of it.
"Make 'em stop pulling my hair!" begged Mun Bun again. And then, as he moved a little to one side, Laddie saw the spinning wheel turn and he cried:
"I know what it is!"
"What?" asked Russ. "Do you see 'em? Is it Margy or Vi?"
"Neither one," answered Laddie. "It isn't anybody."
"Nobody pulling Mun Bun's hair?" asked Russ. "Then what's he hollering for?"
"'Cause the spinning wheel's pulling it. Look! He's caught in one of the spinning wheels, and his leg is tangled in one of the string belts we left on, and he made the wheel go around himself."
Russ dropped his candle-mould gun and ran over to his little brother. Surely enough it had happened just as Laddie had said.
The golden hair of the little boy had become tangled in the slender spokes of the spinning wheel, some of which were a bit splintery.
As I told you, when Russ and Laddie finished making believe the wheels were an airship, they left some strings on them. By pulling on these strings the spinning wheels could be made to go around. And that was what Mun Bun had done, though he did not know it.