nice-looking railroad station at Cavallo and some rather
tall buildings in sight. There was a trolley line through the town, too,
and the children saw the cars almost as soon as they alighted from the
train. But they were all loudly wondering where the cow-ponies were, and
the cowboys whom they had expected to see.

The little Bunkers, of course, did not know that nowadays even the
cattle-shipping towns of the Great West are changed from what they were
in the old times. Whether they are improved by the coming in of other
business besides that connected with the raising of cattle, horses, and
sheep is a question that even the Westerners themselves do not answer
when you ask them. But, in any case, Cavallo had changed a good deal
since the time Daddy Bunker had previously seen it.

"And what can we expect? The range bosses ride around in automobiles now
because it is easier and cheaper than wearing out ponies. And I read
only the other day," added Mr. Bunker, "of a Montana ranch where they
hunt strays in the mountains from an airplane. What do you think of
that?"

"Are you sure Mr. Scarbontiskil got your message, Charles?" asked Mrs.
Bunker of daddy. "Perhaps we had better go to a hotel."

"Oh!" cried Laddie, "I want to go right out where the cows and horses
are."

"So do I," said Russ. "A hotel isn't very different from a Pullman
coach."

And they were all tired of _that_--even daddy and mother. But while they
were discussing this point (the children rather noisily, it must be
confessed) a big man in a gray suit came striding toward them, his hand
outstretched and a broad smile upon his bronzed face. He wore a crimson
necktie and a heavy gold watch-chain with a bunch of charms dangling
from it, and a diamond sparkled in the front of his silk shirt. Russ and
Rose noticed these rather astonishing ornaments, and although they
thought the man very pleasant looking, they knew that he was not dressed
as men dressed back home. At least, daddy would never have worn just
such clothes and ornaments. But he did not look at all like a cowboy.

"I reckon this is Charlie Bunker!" exclaimed the man in a booming voice.
"I'd most forgotten how you looked, Charlie. And is this the Missus?"
and he smiled even more broadly at Mother Bunker.

"That's who we are," cried Mr. Bunker quite as jovially as the big man
spoke. "And these are the six little Bunkers, Mr. Scarbontiskil."

"Oh! That's him!" whispered Rose to Russ. "And I know