"No," replied Mr. Brown, "I haven't. I have written several letters
hoping to get some word, but I haven't as yet. I can't even find out
where Mr. and Mrs. Jackson are. They might have found the address of the
children's Aunt Sallie and Uncle Simon. But Jackson seems to have
vanished after his show failed."
"Yes, that often happens," said Mr. Treadwell.
"If we could only find our Uncle Bill he could tell us just what we want
to know," said Mart. "But I don't know where he is."
"Could he, by any chance, be in this Blind Home just outside of your
town?" asked the actor.
"No, I thought of that, and inquired," said Mr. Brown. "There is no
person named Clayton in the place. Well, we'll just keep on hoping."
The weather was now getting colder. Thanksgiving came, and there were
jolly good times in the Brown home. Mart and Lucile said they had never
had such a happy holiday since their own folks were with them, and Mr.
Treadwell, who was invited to dinner, told such funny jokes and stories,
making believe he was a colored man, or an Irishman, at times, that he
had every one laughing. Bunker Blue came to dinner also, and he said he
had had as much fun as if he had been to the theater.
"You'll come to our show, won't you, Bunker?" asked Bunny, when he could
eat no more.
"Oh, sure, I'll come!" said the fish boy.
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