eakfast.

"Of course he is," answered her mother. "What made you think he wasn't?"

"Oh, I--I dreamed in the night he went back home, and I couldn't see him
any more," answered the little girl. "Did he go?"

"Indeed I didn't, Rose!" answered Uncle Fred himself, as he came softly
up behind her and caught her up in his arms. "I'm going to stay here
until you all get ready to go back to Three Star Ranch with me."

Then the rest of the little Bunkers came down, each one eager to see
Uncle Fred and hear more of his wonderful stories of the West. And he
was glad to tell them, for he liked the children, and, knowing they had
never been out on a ranch, he realized how strange it all was to them.

"If we are really going West," said Mother Bunker to Daddy Bunker, after
breakfast, "I must begin to think of packing up again. It seems we do
nothing but travel!"

"The children like it," said her husband.

"Yes, and they'll like it out at my place," added Uncle Fred.

"Yes, I suppose so," said Mrs. Bunker. "But now to think of packing.
It's such a long journey we can't take much."

"You won't need it," her brother said. "Though we live out West among
the Indians and the cowboys, there are some stores there, and you can
buy what you can't take with you. Besides, you won't need much for the
children. Let them rough it. Put old clothes on them and let them roll
around on the grass. That's the best thing in the world for them.

"Well, I'm going now to have a talk with some water engineers about my
spring, and attend to some other business. Do you think you can be ready
to go back with me in about a week?"

"Oh, never so soon as that!" cried Mrs. Bunker. "I'll need at least two
weeks to pack up."

"All right, then we'll call it two weeks. So, two weeks from to-day, at
ten o'clock in the morning," said Uncle Fred, "we start for the West."

"Hurray!" cried Russ, who came in just in time to hear what his uncle
said.

The next two weeks were busy ones. The six little Bunkers could not do
much toward packing, though Rose, who went about the house singing, as
she almost always did, helped her mother as much as she could. Russ went
about whistling, but he did not help much. Instead he and Laddie made
lassos out of clotheslines, and once Mrs. Bunker heard Norah, out in the
kitchen, saying:

"Now you mustn't do that, Russ! I told you that you must not!"

"What's he doing, Norah?" asked Mrs. Bunker.

"He's taking forks from the