ent back.

"Why, Sunny dear, where have you been?" Mrs. Horton was sitting up in
bed as Sunny Boy came in. "I woke up a minute ago and thought you were
still painting. Then I spoke to you and found you weren't in the room.
Where did you go?"

"I got lost," said Sunny Boy placidly.

He told his mother what had happened and she laughed.

"Here's Daddy," she announced, as some one rapped on the door. "Come
in, Harry. Sunny Boy's adventures in New York have already begun."

So Mr. Horton heard the story.

"Well, well, we'll have to go out for our ride, or there's no knowing
what will happen next," he said jokingly. "Want to come, Olive?"

Mrs. Horton answered that she didn't want to dress hurriedly and that
she would rather wait for them and write a letter or two, perhaps.

"I'll help you write your post cards in the morning," she promised
Sunny Boy. "Harriet will be expecting a card from you every day till
it comes."

Sunny Boy and his father went out of the hotel and walked over toward
Fifth Avenue. The trolley cars and automobiles and crowds of people
seemed to Sunny Boy to be hopelessly mixed. He held tightly to Daddy's
hand when they crossed the street, and he was very grateful to the
tall policeman that made the traffic stop while the people surged
safely across.

"Up top, you know, Daddy," he urged, trotting along, trying to keep
step with his father's long stride.

"All right, up top we'll go," said Mr. Horton, smiling. "I thought
we'd walk around to the Pennsylvania station and get a bus there. We
may want to go home from there instead of the way we came."

CHAPTER VI

ON TOP OF THE BUS

The Pennsylvania Station is a beautiful building, but Sunny Boy hardly
saw it, so eager was he to climb up the winding stairs on one of the
busses.

"Are we going up, or down?" he chattered to Daddy, as they stood on
the curb.

"Over first," explained Mr. Horton, "and then up. I thought we might
go as far as Grant's Tomb; then you can see the river, and to-morrow,
if Mother likes to, we will go down and through the Arch at Washington
Square."

A bus came up and stopped presently, and Sunny Boy was afraid there
would be no room left for him, so many people seemed to want to ride
outside and enjoy the fine September afternoon.

"Careful, now," cautioned Mr. Horton, as he guided Sunny Boy up the
narrow, steep stairs. "They will start before you get to the top."

Sure enough, the bus did start, but Sun