His loss was worrying him, his wife well knew.

CHAPTER III

GRANDMA’S LETTER

While the other children, being too young to understand much about Daddy Bunker’s worry, ran down to play in the yard, Russ and Rose stayed on the porch with their father and mother.  They heard Mrs. Bunker ask: 

“What sort of papers were they you lost?

“Well, I don’t know that I have exactly lost them,” said Mr. Bunker slowly, as though trying to think what really had happened, “I had some real estate papers in my desk at the office.  They were about some property I was going to sell for a man, and the papers were valuable.  But a little while ago, when I went to look for them, I couldn’t find them.  It means the loss of considerable money.”

“Perhaps they are in your desk here,” said Mrs. Bunker, for her husband sometimes did business at his home in the evening, and had a desk in the sitting-room.

“Perhaps they are,” said the father of the six little Bunkers.  “That is why I came home so early—­to look.”

He went into the house, followed by his wife and Russ and Rose.  Mr. Bunker stepped over to his desk, and began looking through it.  He took out quite a bundle of books and papers, but those he wanted did not seem to be there.

“Did you find them?” asked his wife, after a while.

“No,” he answered with a shake of his head, “I did not.  They aren’t here.  I’m sorry.  I need those papers very much.  I may lose a large sum of money if I don’t find them.  I can’t see what could have happened to them.  I had them on my desk in the office yesterday, and I was looking at them when Mr. Johnson came along to see about buying some lumber from the pile in the yard next to my office.”

“Perhaps Mr. Johnson might know something about the papers,” suggested Mrs. Bunker.

Her husband did not answer her for a moment.  Then he suddenly clapped his hands together as a new thought came to him, and he said: 

“Oh, now I remember!  I left those papers in my old coat.”

“Your old coat!” repeated Mrs. Bunker with interest.

“Yes.  That old ragged one I sometimes wear at the office when I have to get things down from the dusty shelves.  I had on that coat when I was holding the papers in my hand, and then Mr. Johnson came along.  I wanted to go out in the lumberyard with him, to look at the boards he wanted to buy, so I stuck the papers in the pocket of the old coat.”

“Then that’s where they must be yet,” said Mrs. Bunker.  “Where is the coat?”

“Oh, I always keep it hanging up behind the office door.  Yes, that’s it.  I remember now.  When Mr. Johnson came in and I went out to look at the lumber with him, I stuck the papers in the inside pocket of the old, ragged coat.  And then I forgot all about them until just now, when I had to have them.  I’ll hurry back to the office and get the papers out of the pocket of the coat.”