“Um! Well, don’t do it again—that’s all I ask!” begged the man. “I was afraid I was going to run right over you!” “Yes, it was a very dangerous thing for him to do,” said Mrs. Bunker. “He shouldn’t have tried it. I’m sorry he caused you trouble.” “Oh, it wasn’t exactly trouble,” said the man, and he smiled a little. “I was going to stop around here, anyhow. I’m looking for a family named Bunker. Do you know if they live around here?” “We’re the Bunkers!” quickly answered Russ. “Anyhow, we’re the most of ’em,” he added, laughing. “All but daddy and——” “Oh!” murmured the driver of the truck. “Are there more of you?” “It is rather a large family,” said Mrs. Bunker. “I have two more boys.” “My daddy’s in his office,” volunteered Violet, who was now satisfied that her doll, Esmeralda, was all right except for a little dirt. “And Laddie and Mun Bun are digging a hole to China,” added Margy. “Oh,” and again the man smiled. “Are you looking for a Mr. Charles Bunker?” asked Mrs. Bunker. “That’s the name, yes, ma’am,” the truck driver replied, glancing at a slip of paper in his hand. “I have a load of flowers for him.” “Oh, flowers! Is that what’s on your auto?” cried Rose, for the sides of the truck were covered with canvas and it could not be seen what it was laden with. Without waiting for an answer, Rose hurried around to the rear. There she saw a number of pots of flowers and plants, and, being very fond of them, she reached up to pull nearer to her the pot closest to the end of the truck. Perhaps the sudden stopping of the vehicle had made the pot unsteady, for, as Rose touched it, the pot was upset and rolled out of the truck toward the little girl. “Oh! Oh!” cried Rose. “What is the matter now?” asked Mrs. Bunker, going around to the rear of the truck. She was just in time to see a shower of brown earth from the pot splattering around Rose. The pot fell to the ground and was broken, the flower in it being knocked out. “Not much damage done as long as the little girl isn’t harmed,” said the driver. “I’ve got some extra pots on the truck and I can easily plant this flower again,” and he picked up the geranium, which was a pink one in full blossom. “Let me ’mell!” begged Mun Bun who, with Laddie, had now come out in the street to see why his mother and the other little Bunkers were gathered there. “There isn’t much smell to that geranium,” laughed the driver. “But I have other flowers that do smell.” “Are all these for us?” asked Mrs. Bunker, as she saw the mass of blossoms inside. “Rose, dear, are you sure you aren’t hurt?” “Yes, Mother, I’m all right,” was the answer. “But, oh, where did all the pretty flowers come from?” “They’re from Mr. Joel Todd,” answered the driver. “Farmer Joel?” asked Mrs. Bunker.