keered of gypsies," said Bunny in a
low voice, so the dark man could not hear him. But perhaps it was
because he was in his own yard that Bunny was so brave.

The dark man--he really was a gypsy, as Bunny and Sue learned
later--came up to the fence, and touched his cap, almost as a soldier
might salute. He smiled at the children, showing his white teeth, and
asked:

"Excuse me, but has your father, maybe, some horses he wants to sell?"

"My father doesn't sell horses, he sells fish, and he rents boats," said
Bunny.

"Oh, yes, I saw the fish dock," went on the gypsy. "And you must be the
Brown children."

"Yes, I'm Bunny, and this is my Sister Sue," said the little boy. "And
her name's Sadie West," he added, pointing to their playmate.

"How'd he know your name was Brown?" asked Sadie in a whisper of Sue.

"He saw it painted on my father's boat house," said Bunny. "Everybody
knows our name--I mean our last name," and this was true, at least of
the folks in Bellemere. They all knew Bunny Brown and his Sister Sue.

"I know your father does not sell horses for a business," went on the
gypsy with the gold rings in his ears; "but perhaps, maybe, he has a
horse he drives, and would like to get another for it, or sell it. We
gypsies, you know, buy and sell horses as your father buys and sells
boats and catches fish."

"Do you ever catch any horses?" asked Sue. "And do you catch them in a
net?"

"Well, no, not exactly," and the gypsy smiled at her. "We get them in
different ways--we trade for them. Perhaps your father has a horse he
wants to trade."

"No, he hasn't any horse, except the one that pulls the fish wagon down
to the depot," said Bunny, for Mr. Brown did own a slow, old horse, that
took the iced fish to the train. "But I don't guess he'd sell him,"
Bunny went on.

"All right, I ask next door," said the gypsy, and he was turning away
when, back in the yard, sounded the ringing of a bell. The gypsy turned
quickly, and looked at the children.

"Oh, that's Toby, and he's ringing for us to come back and play with
him!" cried Sue.

"Is Toby your brother?" asked the gypsy.

"No, he isn't our brother," Bunny answered, and he was laughing at the
funny idea when Toby, the Shetland pony himself, came walking around the
corner of the house.

"This is Toby--he's our pony!" explained Sue, as she put her arms around
her pet, who came up to her, rubbing his velvety nose against her
sleeve, as though asking for a