Russ and Laddie said, afterward, that they were much frightened at what happened. They were really more frightened than was Mun Bun, for he was not so much frightened as he was hurt. He thought some one had crept up behind him and was pulling his hair, as often happened when some of the six little Bunkers were not as good as they should be.

"Let go my hair! Stop pulling!" cried Mun Bun.

"We're not touching you," said Laddie.

"Is any one there?" asked Russ, looking to see if any one stood back of his brother.

But he could look right through the spokes of the spinning wheel, near which Mun Bun was standing, and see no one except his little brother. And the bobbed, golden hair of Mun Bun still stuck straight out behind him, as stiff as if the wind were blowing it, or as if some one had hold of it.

"Make 'em stop pulling my hair!" begged Mun Bun again. And then, as he moved a little to one side, Laddie saw the spinning wheel turn and he cried:

"I know what it is!"

"What?" asked Russ. "Do you see 'em? Is it Margy or Vi?"

"Neither one," answered Laddie. "It isn't anybody."

"Nobody pulling Mun Bun's hair?" asked Russ. "Then what's he hollering for?"

"'Cause the spinning wheel's pulling it. Look! He's caught in one of the spinning wheels, and his leg is tangled in one of the string belts we left on, and he made the wheel go around himself."

Russ dropped his candle-mould gun and ran over to his little brother. Surely enough it had happened just as Laddie had said.

The golden hair of the little boy had become tangled in the slender spokes of the spinning wheel, some of which were a bit splintery.

As I told you, when Russ and Laddie finished making believe the wheels were an airship, they left some strings on them. By pulling on these strings the spinning wheels could be made to go around. And that was what Mun Bun had done, though he did not know it.

At first he did not feel it when, leaning up against one of the wheels, his hair got caught. Then his legs became entangled in one of the strings, and, as he stepped out, he pulled on the string and the wheel began to spin.

Of course that stretched his hair tightly, and it felt exactly as if some one were pulling it, which was the case. Only it was the spinning wheel, and not a ghost or any person.

All ghost stories will turn out that way if you wait long enough. Every time it is something real which makes the funny noises or does the funny things. For there are no ghosts.

"Wait a minute, Mun Bun, and I'll fix you!" cried Russ. "Stand still. The more you move the more you pull your own hair."

"I'm not pulling my hair," said Mun Bun. "Somebody behind me is pulling it."

"It's the spinning wheel," said Laddie with a laugh.

Then, when they had untangled Mun Bun's hair, they showed him how it all had happened. He had really pulled his own hair. Of course, he was not hurt very much, for only a little of his hair had stuck to the wheel.

"I can make a riddle up about this," said Laddie when Mun Bun was free once more.

"How?" asked Russ.

"Oh, I don't know just yet, but it'll be something about how can you pull your own hair and not pull it. And the answer will be a spinning wheel."

"Can I make the spinning wheels go 'round?" asked Mun Bun, who wanted to have some fun after his trouble.

"Yes, you can play with 'em," agreed Russ. "That is, with one of 'em. I'm going to take the other and make it ring the sleigh bells."

"How can you?" asked Laddie.

"I'll show you," answered Russ.

He took the strings off one wheel, letting Mun Bun play with that, and then tied more strings on the second wheel. He also fastened a string of bells on the wheel, and then, standing in a far corner of the attic, and pulling on the string of jingling bells, Russ could make them tinkle and ring.

"This is fun!" cried Laddie, and he and his brother enjoyed themselves very much, and so did Mun Bun. The attic was a great place to have jolly times.

"And I don't believe there's any ghost up there, either," said Russ to Rose that night. "First I thought it might be him pulling Mun Bun's hair, but it wasn't. There's no ghost there."

"I'm glad of it," said Rose.

The weather became somewhat warmer again, and the six little Bunkers could play out in the snow. The hill back of the barn was worn smoother and smoother, and it made a fine place for coasting.

"Let's take our dolls out and give them a ride," said Vi to Rose one day. "They haven't had a sleigh ride for a long while."

"Yes, we'll give 'em a ride," agreed Rose.

"My doll wants a ride, too," said Margy.

Russ, Laddie and Mun Bun were making another snow-man, which was to be a regular "giant," so the girls had the coasting hill to themselves. They took two sleds, for Vi wanted to go by herself. But Margy was almost too little for this.

"You shall ride down with sister," promised Rose. "I'll take care of you."

"And I can hold my doll, can't I?" asked Margy.

"Oh, yes," agreed Rose.

They had brought to Great Hedge with them the Japanese dolls that had come ashore in the box on the beach at Cousin Tom's, and these the three girls took out with them to coast downhill. They had made new clothes for the dolls, as the Japanese dresses were hardly warm enough for the cold weather at Grandpa Ford's.

Reaching the hill, Vi took her place on her sled, holding her doll in her lap, and then, holding to the sled rope, she began pushing herself to the edge of the slope, at the same time calling:

"Gid-ap! Gid-ap!"

"You don't say 'gid-ap' to a sled," objected Rose. "That's only for a horse when you want it to go."

"Well, I want my sled to go, and that's the same thing," declared Vi. "Why can't I say it if I want to? Gid-ap!" she went on, not waiting for an answer to her question. Very often Vi asked questions to which there was no answer.

"Come on, I want a ride like Vi!" exclaimed Margy.

"All right, you shall have it," answered Rose. "And you may say 'gid-ap' to our sled, too, if you like."

"All right—gid-ap!" cried Margy, and then Rose pushed the sled on which she and her little sister sat to the edge of the hill, and down they coasted.

The three little Bunker girls had great fun on the hill. Now and then Dick, who was working around the barn, would come out to watch them.

"Don't you want a ride?" asked Rose, for a few days before Dick had let her sit on the back of one of Grandpa's horses, and had ridden her around the big barn.

"Oh, I'm afraid my legs are too long for those sleds," laughed the hired man. "I'll have to get a bigger one."

"You can hold my doll if you want to," offered Vi. "I'm going to coast like the boys do, and I can't hold her."

"Well, you had better leave your doll in the barn," said Dick. "I might lose her if I took her."

Vi stretched out face downward on the sled, to ride "boy fashion," and, of course, she couldn't hold her doll that way. So she left the toy in a warm place in the hay in the barn.

Rose, Vi and Margy had great sport coasting on the hill, and they were thinking of going in and getting some of Grandma Ford's good bread and jam when Margy cried:

"Oh, my doll! Where's my doll? She's gone. She went sliding downhill all by herself, and now she's gone! Oh, dear!" And Margy began to cry.