"Maybe not, Mother," Rose agreed. "I just thought maybe that was what it was there for. But I'll pick it up. I hope it's got a lot of money in it!" With shining eyes Rose stooped to pick up the purse. "Open it, Rose, and see what is inside," said Mrs. Bunker. "We may find out the name of the owner, and, if she lives around here--for it looks like a lady's pocketbook--we can take it to her." "But we don't know the streets, Mother," said Rose. "We can ask a policeman. If we find the name of the owner, and it is too far for us to go where she lives, we can give the pocketbook to the policeman and he will deliver it for us. But open it and see what is in it," returned Mrs. Bunker. The pocketbook opened easily enough, and as Rose turned back the flap she gave a cry of surprise. "What's the matter?" asked the excited child's mother. "Oh! Oh, it's just _full_ of money!" cried the little girl. "It's piled full of money, Mother! Look!" She hurried to her mother's side with the opened pocketbook. Surely enough, when Mrs. Bunker looked, she saw a roll of green bills. Just how many were in the pocketbook she could not tell. "Well, this is quite a find!" said Rose's mother. "The person who lost this will feel bad about it. We must try to find the owner." "Oh, can't I keep it?" asked Rose. "Of course not," said her mother. "Whenever we find anything we must try to discover the owner and give the lost thing back. If you lost your doll you'd want whoever found her to give her back; wouldn't you?" "Oh, of course, Mother! But Sue--she isn't a _pocketbook_ full of money." "No," agreed Mrs. Bunker with a smile. "If Russ were here I suppose he'd say your doll was full of sawdust. However, no matter what it is, we must give back whatever we have found if we can find the owner. Of course, after we have tried hard, if we can't discover who lost whatever we have found, we may keep it." "How can we tell who lost this pocketbook and all the money?" asked Rose. "We'll look inside, and we'll also count the money," said her mother. "Maybe it's a hundred dollars!" exclaimed the little girl, her eyes shining brightly. "Perhaps it may be," said Mrs. Bunker. "But we won't count it out here on the street. We have nearly finished shopping, so we will take the pocketbook home with us, and show it to Daddy and Aunt Jo." Rose had the wallet open, looking at the roll of bills inside. Now her mother gently took it from her and closed it. "What made you do that?" asked Rose. "Because the wind might blow some of the money out," was the answer, "and then we could not give it all back to the poor person who owns it." "What makes you think the pocketbook is a poor person's?" asked Rose, who was asking almost as many questions as would her sister Vi had she been there.