"

"It was a splinter," said Russ, now drawing a scrap of paper from one
pocket. "And here it is----"

"Not the splinter?" gasped Rose.

"No. It was this piece of paper I was hunting for. I wasn't scratching,
either. Here it is. This is that foreign man's name."

"What man's name?" asked Vi, who by this time had forgotten what the
main subject of the discussion was.

"Cowboy Jack's name!" cried Rose.

"Has he got more names than that?" asked Vi. "Isn't Cowboy Jack enough
name for him?"

"His name," said Russ, reading what he had scribbled down on the paper,
"is 'Mr. John Scarbontiskil.' That's foreign."

"Oh!" gasped Rose. "I shouldn't think Daddy Bunker would want to go to
see a man with a name like that."

"I don't suppose," said Russ, "that he can help his name being that."

"Couldn't he make his own name--and make it a better one?" demanded Vi.
"You know, Mun Bun made his name for himself."

"I could not pronounce that name at all," said Rose to Russ. "I guess,
after all, maybe we'd better not go to that place."

"What place?"

"Where daddy is going. To that--that Cowboy Jack's place."

"Why not?" asked Russ, almost as promptly as Vi might have asked it had
she heard Rose's speech.

"Because," said Rose, who was a thoughtful girl, "of course they don't
call him Cowboy Jack to his face, and I should never be able to say
Scar--Scar--Scar--whatever it is to him. Never!"

"Nonsense! You can learn to say anything if you try," declared Russ
loftily.

"No," sighed Rose, who knew her limitations, "_I_ can't. I can't even
learn to say Con-stan-stan-stan-ple--You know!"

"Con-stan-ti-no-ple!" exclaimed Russ with emphasis.

"Yes. That's it," Rose said. "But, anyway, I can't say it."

"I'd like to know why not?" demanded her brother scornfully.

"'Cause I get lost in the middle of it," declared Rose, shaking her
head. "It's too long, Russ."

"Well, 'Mr. John Scarbontiskil' _is_ long," admitted Russ. "But if you
practise from now, right on----"

"But what is the use of practising if we are not going there with
daddy?"

"But maybe we'll go," said Russ hopefully.

"We have got to go to school. I don't mind," sighed Rose. "Only I do so
love to travel about with daddy and mother."

"You can practise saying it on the chance of our going," her brother
advised.

But Rose did not really think there was much use in doing that. She said
so. She was not of so hopeful a disposition as Russ. He believed th