The twins—Johnnie Green's guests—each with a honey box in his hand, began at once to hunt for bumblebees. And if Buster Bumblebee had been wiser he would have flown away at once.

But he had no idea that he would have any trouble dodging a boy—especially a city boy. So he lingered on the porch to see what happened. As soon as Johnnie Green should put the Carpenter back in his prison Buster intended to urge him once more to cut his way through the wood—and to freedom.

Soon Buster had his chance. Again he crowded close to the glass door of the Carpenter's cage. And then Johnnie Green's sharp eyes spied him.

"There's one!" said Johnnie Green to one of the twins. And at that the eager youngster pounced quickly on Buster, picked him up gingerly, and popped him quickly into a prison exactly like the one that held the Carpenter.

"He didn't sting me!" cried Buster's captor proudly, while Johnnie Green stared at him in astonishment and—it must be confessed—with some disappointment, too.

Now, Johnnie knew a good many things about the field and forest folk in Pleasant Valley. He knew that the Carpenter (or Whiteface, as Johnnie called him) couldn't sting anybody. But he had always supposed that all bumblebees stung fiercely. And that was where he was mistaken. It was true that Buster's mother, the Queen, could sting when she wanted to. And all those hot-tempered workers who lived with her had stings just as hot as their tempers. But Buster and his brothers (for he had brothers) were not armed with such weapons.

Naturally, the other twin was now more eager than ever to capture a bumblebee of his own. And since Johnnie did not want to disappoint a guest he soon suggested that they go over to the clover patch.

"There's a lot of bumblebees over there, always," said Johnnie Green hopefully.

So Buster had a free ride to the clover field; for his twin insisted on taking his new pet right along with him.

"Besides, I may want to catch some more like him," he explained.

Looking out through the glass sides of his prison, which his captor held tightly in one hand, Buster Bumblebee saw many of his mother's workers hovering about the clover-tops, gathering nectar for the honeycomb at home.

The twins saw the workers, too. They were delighted. And so was Johnnie Green.

"Take all the bumblebees you want!" said Johnnie. "My father won't care."

Both twins grabbed at the same time. They both shrieked at the same time, too—for each of them felt a sharp pain, as if a red-hot needle had been run into his finger. And Buster Bumblebee felt himself falling. Then followed a crash of splintering glass. And in another moment Buster was hurrying away across the clover field.

When he was stung by the worker he had seized, Buster's twin had dropped the honey box. And it had fallen squarely upon a rock and broken.

If Buster had not been in such haste to escape he would have heard still another shout. For the news spread like wildfire among the workers—the news that an army of boys had attacked them. And a terrible-tempered relation of Buster's known as Peppery Polly darted at Johnnie Green and buried her sting deep in the back of that young gentleman's sun-browned neck.

As for the Carpenter, everybody quite forgot about him. Johnnie and the twins were too busy putting mud poultices on their wounds, to ease their aches and pains, to think of the prisoner they had left on the farmhouse porch. It was not until the next day that Johnnie Green remembered his new pet. And when he went to see him then the honey box was empty. The Carpenter had cut a tunnel through the wall of his prison.

Later the Carpenter sent a message to Buster, by little Mrs. Ladybug.

"The Carpenter has lost so much time," she told Buster, "that he thinks he will never be able to finish the addition to his house. So he says you'll have to get somebody else to build your new home for you."

At first Buster was disappointed. But he soon recovered his good spirits.

"After all, it's just as well," he remarked cheerfully. "I know where there's a fine new house right in the clover patch. And I'll move into it at once."

Of course he meant the honey box which the boy had dropped upon the rock and forgotten. So Buster had his new home without the help of the Carpenter. And all his friends agreed that the house-warming he gave was the most successful that ever was known in those parts. It took place on the hottest day of the summer. And Buster's house was so warm that three of his guests almost had sunstrokes—and had to be helped home.