o you remember when you were counting up the kinds of cars you had ridden on?" asked Daddy, as he and Sunny Boy stood on the walk waiting for Mother, who had gone into a drugstore to buy some postage stamps.

Sunny Boy nodded.

"Well, the subway is one kind you haven't been on," said Daddy.

Sunny Boy was surprised.

"But it isn't cars, Daddy," he argued. "I think it is a boat."

Mr. Horton laughed.

"The subway isn't what you ride on," he tried to explain. "It's what you ride in. The trains go through the subway, Sunny."

Mrs. Horton came out with her postage stamps just then, and the three walked till they came to one of the funny little houses Sunny Boy had seen at many street corners. Mr. Horton led the way straight down the steps.

"Why, we're going down cellar!" exclaimed the astonished little boy, who followed him. "Daddy, do the trains run in the cellar?"

It was clear that they did, for even before they reached the last step the rumble and roar of a coming train was heard. It was light and bright in the subway station, and Sunny Boy thought that it did not seem like a cellar at all.

He stood as close to the edge of the platform as his father would let him and peered up the track. It was dark, like a tunnel, and colored lights winked at him from the walls.

"Will the next be our train?" he asked.

"We can take any that comes," answered Daddy. "This is an express station. See the red light coming—that is a train."

A tiny red glow far in the distance grew larger and larger, and the roar and rumble of the train was heard. A long train of cars, brilliantly lighted, swept past them, such a long train that Sunny Boy thought at first that it was not going to stop. But it did.

"Where's the engine?" he asked disappointedly, as he and Mother and Daddy stepped on through a center door.

"There isn't any engine," replied his father. "Don't you remember the elevated train has no engine, either? Both kinds of trains are run by electricity. If Mother doesn't mind, we'll go up in the first car and watch from the front door."

Mrs. Horton didn't mind, even though they had to walk almost the length of the train to reach the first car. There were plenty of seats in this car, and Mrs. Horton sat down to rest while Sunny Boy and his father stood at the door and peered through the glass panel. They could see the tracks stretching ahead of them, and as they watched the train flashed through a station without stopping.

Sunny Boy was delighted.

"Let's ride all day," he suggested. "Don't get off, Daddy. See the blue light! What's that for?"

Mr. Horton didn't know. It was some sort of signal for the engineer. The engineer was shut away from them in a little enclosed corner space where it was dark and he could see the lights ahead of him plainly.

When they stopped at a station, many people always got off, but seemingly as many crowded on.

"Where are we going, Daddy?" Sunny Boy thought to ask at one of these stops.

"A long way," Daddy assured him. "Up to Bronx Park and the Zoological Garden. I thought you'd like to see the animals."

Sunny Boy was fond of animals, but he was sure that he would never again have as much fun as he was having watching the train speed along those dark shining rails.

"You can go and sit down, if you're tired, Daddy," he told his father. "I can stay here alone."

Mr. Horton did go back and sit down beside Mother.

"I guess maybe I will sit down a minute," said Sunny Boy, after he had stood up for many blocks. "I'm not tired, but my feet are."

Then, before his feet were rested, Daddy announced that the next station was theirs. They were out of the subway now, riding along in the open air, and he took Mother's hand.

"And now," said Mr. Horton, with a smile for Sunny as they left the train and, after a short walk, entered the park, "let's see everything!"

This they proceeded to do.

There isn't room to tell you of the wonderful animals they saw, the buffaloes, the beautiful deer, so tame that they came up to the wires to have their noses rubbed; of the lions and tigers and panthers and leopards; of strange animals that Sunny Boy had never seen even in his book of wild animals; and of the woods where they enjoyed their lunch, just as if they were on a picnic. They visited the Botanical Gardens, too, where Mother made as much fuss over the flowers as Sunny Boy had over the baby deer, and where Daddy took pictures of them both to send to Grandpa and Grandma Horton.

"We may be tired," Daddy admitted, when he looked at his watch and found it was time for them to go home, "but then look what we have for being tired!"

Sunny Boy was busy thinking of all the things he had seen, and he forgot to be disappointed because the first car was full and he couldn't get near the door to look out, as he had coming up that morning.

"We'll change at Forty-second Street," he heard Daddy say to Mother. "I'm afraid we stayed a little too long and will be caught in the rush."

Mrs. Horton had a seat, but Sunny Boy and Daddy were standing.

"Hang on to my coat sleeve and you'll be steady enough," Daddy advised his little son.

"I think it would be better if he sat in his mother's lap, don't you?" said Mrs. Horton, smiling.

"But I'm not slipping, Mother," he announced proudly. "Wouldn't you think I was standing without holding on to anything?"

"You manage very nicely," Mrs. Horton told him. "Isn't the next stop ours, Harry?"

It was, and Mr. Horton had to elbow a little path for them to the door, there were so many people trying to get in and out at the same time. Sunny Boy had hold of Mother's dress, and as they squeezed out of the car he lost his grasp.

"Goodness," he scolded, "I should think folks would wait a minute. That man bumped right into me and never said 'excuse me.'"

Sunny Boy looked ahead and saw Mother's blue dress and tan coat.

"I 'spect I'd better hurry," he said aloud.

He ran after the blue dress and tan coat and slipped in through a door just a second before the guard closed it.

Then Sunny Boy made a surprising discovery.

The blue dress and the tan coat were not Mother's at all! He had followed a strange woman!

He looked all around the car and couldn't see his own mother, nor a sign of Daddy. Though Sunny Boy did not know it, he had crossed the station platform and taken an uptown train. He was riding away from the hotel as fast as the noisy rumbling subway train could carry him.

"It's pretty crowded," said Sunny Boy to himself. "Maybe when some more folks get off at the next station, I can see Mother."

But though people got off at the next station and the next, there was no Mother.

Sunny Boy sat quietly. No one, looking at him, would have guessed that he was lost. When the crowd of people began to thin out, he followed a fat man with a big basket to the door and up the steps out into the street.

It was still light enough to see clearly, and Sunny Boy knew that he had never been in this part of New York. There were many small shops on either side of the street and moving picture places with great glaring signs already lit.

"Papers!" a boy on the corner was calling. "Papers!"

As Sunny watched him, several men stepped up and bought papers and ran down the subway steps.

Sunny felt in his pocket. There were two bright pennies there, slipped in by Mother, who always put money in the pocket of each new suit. Sunny jammed his hat more tightly on his yellow head and walked over to where the newsboy stood.

"Want a paper?" the boy grinned at him in a friendly way. "World? Well, didn't your father say? How much you got?"

Sunny Boy held out his pennies silently.

The boy whipped a paper from the pack under his arm, folded it neatly and gave it to Sunny, taking his money as he did so.

"You'd better scoot," he advised him kindly. "If your father's waiting for that paper he'll think you're reading it. Hurry up—get a move on!"

Sunny Boy sat down sociably on an old soap box.

"Daddy isn't waiting," he said.

"Papers! Here you are, sir!" the boy made change quickly with not too clean hands. "Then what do you want a paper for? You can't read, can you?"

"Well some writing I can," admitted Sunny Boy modestly. "That is, if it's printed. I thought maybe you'd talk to me."

"Talk to you!" repeated the newsboy. "Say, kid, you ought to be home running errands for supper."

Sunny Boy doubled a small foot under him.

"I got lost," he announced casually.

"In the subway. They pushed me and then I thought I saw mother and it was another lady."

The boy glanced at him sharply.

"You stringing me?" he demanded. "You do look as if you were used to having somebody around with you. Don't you know where you live?"

"Of course I do," declared Sunny Boy quickly. "I always 'member where I live. It's the Macnapin Hotel."

The newsboy had sold nearly all his papers now and he felt that he could take a little time to question this strange child who sat on the soap box and said he was lost.

"That's a new one to me," he admitted, when Sunny Boy mentioned the hotel. "Is it in New York?"

"My, yes!" Sunny Boy answered, surprised. "Don't you know? I know one of the bell-boys."

"Well, how do you get to it?" demanded the newsboy.

Sunny Boy didn't know.

"Well, then, what's your name?" said his new friend.

"Sunny Boy," came the prompt answer.

The newsboy laughed.

"'Sunny Boy'!" he jeered. "That's a great name to be lost with. S'pose your folks will put an ad in to-morrow's papers for a lost child named Sunny Boy?"

Now by this time Sunny was very hungry and tired from his long day at the Park. He was worried, too, and he felt very far away from his daddy and mother. Two big tears gathered in his eyes and ran down his face.