“Huh, I guess you forgot on purpose!” declared Laddie. By this time Mr. and Mrs. Bunker had come up. They saw that Rose had her shortcake again. “Look here, young man,” said Mr. Bunker sternly to the peddler, “you mustn’t go about the country stealing things, you know! You may land in jail if you try that again.” “It was all a mistake, I tell you!” said the shoe-lace peddler, who was really older in experience than a boy of his years should have been. “It was a mistake.” “What do you mean—a mistake?” asked Mr. Bunker. “Well, I saw the shortcake on the window, and I thought maybe it was to be thrown away, so I picked it up. I didn’t know anybody wanted it.” “Well, you know now,” said Mr. Bunker grimly. “And you had better not try any more tricks like that. Are you sure you didn’t take anything more by mistake?” “No, I take nothing more,” answered the boy sullenly, as he fastened his box again, and, slinging that and his basket of wares over his shoulder, away he walked. He was quite angry at being caught, it appeared. “Oh, I’m so glad I got my shortcake back!” cried Rose. “Now we can eat it when we get back to the house.” “Do you think it was kept clean?” asked her mother. But they need not have worried on that score. Whatever else he was, the peddler boy seemed clean, and he had wrapped a clean paper about the short cake before putting it in his box. To be sure some of the strawberries on top were crushed and a little of their red juice had run down the sides of the cake. “But that doesn’t matter, ’cause we got to smash it a lot more when we eat it,” said Laddie. Which, of course, was perfectly true. So Rose’s shortcake came back to Farmer Joel’s and they sat down to the table again and ate it. Dessert was a little late that evening, but it was liked none the less. “Busy day to-morrow, children!” said Farmer Joel, as the six little Bunkers went up to bed. “What doing?” asked Russ. “Getting in the hay!” was the answer. “Those who can’t help can ride on the hay wagon.” There were whoops of delight from the six little Bunkers. “Could I drive the horses?” asked Russ. “Well, we’ll see about that,” answered Farmer Joel slowly. “I want to ride on the rake that makes the hay into heaps like Eskimo houses,” announced Laddie. “You’d better not do that,” his mother said. “You might fall off and get raked up with the hay.” “I’ll look after them, and so will Adam North!” chuckled Farmer Joel. “So to bed now, all of you. Up bright and early! We must get the hay in before it rains!” CHAPTER XV AN EXCITING RIDE Very seldom did the six little Bunkers need any one to call them to get them out of bed. Generally they were up before any one else in Farmer Joel’s house. The morning when the hay was to be gotten in was no exception. Almost as soon as Norah had the fire started and breakfast on the way, Russ, Rose and the others were impatient to start for the hay field.