The Bobbsey Twins Megapack

by Laura Lee Hope

  “Oh yes!” cried Freddie. “That’s what we’ll do—make a little pattern ship first. It will be easier.”

  “Much easier,” said James. “Now I’ll find some small pieces of board for you, and—”

  But just then one of the workmen in the yard called to the watchman to come and help him pile some lumber on a wagon.

  “Wait just a minute, Freddie,” said James. “I’ll be back soon and help you.”

  “All right,” answered Freddie. He sat down on a pile of shingles, and thought of the time when he and Tommy Todd should set off on their ship to find the shipwrecked Mr. Todd.

  The watchman was gone longer than he expected. Freddie grew tired of waiting for him, and finally said to himself:

  “I’m going to look for some wood myself. I guess I can find it.” He looked for some on the ground, but, though there were many chips, and broken pieces, there was none of the kind Freddie thought would be good for a toy ship—the pattern after which the real one would be made.

  “I guess I’ll climb up on one of these piles of lumber,” thought Freddie, “and see if there are any small pieces of board on top. It is easy to climb up.”

  This was true enough, and once or twice before Freddie had made his way to the top of a pile. Each stack of lumber was made in a sort of slanting fashion, so that the back of it was almost like a pair of steps. Lumber is piled this way to let the rain run off better.

  Freddie went up the back part of a pile, some distance away from the bundles of shingles where he had been talking to James.

  “This is an easy place to climb,” Freddie said to himself. “I hope I shall find what I want on top.”

  Step by step he went up the pile of lumber, until he was at the top. But, to his disappointment, he found there nothing which he could bring James to use in making a small ship. The boards were all too long and wide.

  “I might bring one down, and have James cut it smaller with his knife,” said Freddie, speaking aloud. “That’s what I’ll do.”

  He lifted up one of the boards. As he did so the little boy noticed that the pile of lumber was swaying a little from side to side as he moved about.

  “I guess I’d better get down off here,” Freddie said. “This is too jiggily.” He had been told to keep off “jiggily” lumber piles, as they were not safe.

  Freddie dragged to the edge the board he had picked out for the watchman to make smaller. The little boy was just going to slide it over the edge of the pile to the ground, when, all at once Freddie felt himself falling.

  “Oh dear!” he cried. “Something is going to happen!”

  And something did happen. The lumber pile with Freddie on top, was falling over. Freddie did not know what to do; whether or not to jump. He looked down, but neither James nor any other man was in sight; and the office, where Freddie’s father was working, was far on the other side of the yard.

  “Oh dear!” cried Freddie again.

  And then, with a crash, the top of the lumber pile slid over, carrying Freddie with it. A cloud of dust arose and the little Bobbsey chap could see nothing for a few seconds. And when he did open his eyes, after feeling himself come down with a hard bump, he found himself in an odd little house.

  It really was a sort of house in which Freddie found himself—a little play-house, almost. The lumber had fallen about him in such a way that Freddie had not been hurt or squeezed by it in the least. The boards had piled up over his head, in a peak, like the peaked roof of a real house. Other boards were on the sides and in front, and there Freddie was, in an odd play-house that had made itself when the lumber slid over.

  “Well!” thought Freddie, “this is funny! But I wonder how I can get out.”

  It was not dark in the strange play-house, for light came in between the cracks among the boards and planks. But though the cracks and openings were large enough to let in the light, they were not large enough to let Freddie get out.

  The little boy pushed here and there, but the lumber was too heavy for him to move. Then he happened to think that if he did move one board it might loosen others which would fall down on his head.

  “I’m in a little house,” thought Freddie, “and I guess I’d better call my father to come and get me out. He’ll know how to lift off the boards. I’ll call daddy or James.”

  Freddie began to call. But as several lumber wagons were rattling up and down the yard just then, the little boy’s voice was not heard. James, having finished helping the man load his wagon, came back to where he had left Freddie.

  “Well, shall we start to make a little ship now?” asked the watchman. But no Freddie was in sight near the shingle pile.

  “Humph! He got tired of waiting, I guess,” thought James, “and went back to his father’s office. Well, if he comes back I’ll help him. He’s an odd little chap, wanting to build a ship. An odd little chap.”

  And James never thought of going to look for Freddie, for the lumber pile, which had fallen and made itself into a sort of play-house was some distance away from the bundle of shingles. So James sat there in the sun, waiting, and, far off, Freddie was calling for help. For he wanted to get out, very much.

  CHAPTER XII

  Tommy Is Rewarded

  Freddie Bobbsey was a wise little chap, even if he was only about five years old, and when he found that he was shut up in the strange play-house, and could not get out, he did not cry. He stopped calling for help, when he found no one answered him, and sat down to think what was best to do.

  “It would be nice in here, if Flossie could be with me to play,” he said to himself. “But she couldn’t get in unless some way was opened, or unless one of the cracks was made bigger. There ought to be a door and some windows to this place. Then we could go in and out, and have fun. And we ought to have something to eat, too,” Freddie went on.

  But there was nothing to eat under the pile of lumber, and Freddie had not thought to put a piece of cake or an apple in his pocket as he sometimes did when he went to visit his father.

  That morning he had thought of nothing much but about making a ship to go sailing with Tommy Todd to look for Tommy’s father. And all Freddie had put in his pockets were the nails and bits of string. He could not eat them, and, anyhow, they were back by the pile of shingles where he had been talking to James.

  “Maybe James will come and find me after a bit,” Freddie thought. “I’ll just stay here and wait.”

  He called as loudly as he could once or twice more, but no one answered him. Freddie made himself as easy as he could in the strange little lumber play-house, and, as it was warm with the sun shining down, pretty soon he felt sleepy. How long he slept Freddie did not know, but, all of a sudden he was awakened by hearing a scratching sound near his ear. Some one was scratching away at the lumber.

  “Who is there?” Freddie cried, sitting up.

  No one answered but Freddie again heard the scratching.

  “Oh—oh!” he exclaimed, shrinking back in one corner. “I wonder if that is a big rat? Rats scratch and gnaw.”

  Once more came the funny sound, and then Freddie heard:

  Mew! Mew!

  “Oh! Now I know that isn’t a rat!” cried the little boy. “Rats can scratch, but rats can’t mew. Only cats can do that! Here, pussy!” he called. “Come in and see me!”

  Once more there was a scratching and a mewing and up through one of the larger cracks same a big gray cat, that lived in the lumber yard. Freddie knew her quite well, for he had often seen her in his father’s office.

  “Oh Sawdust!” he called joyfully. Sawdust was the cat’s name; a very good name for a lumber yard cat, I think. “I’m so glad it’s you, Sawdust!” cried Freddie.

  The big cat came up to Freddie, and rubbed against his legs. The little boy rubbed her back and the cat’s tail stood up stiff and straight, like the flag pole in front of Mr. Bobbsey’s office.

  “I thought you were a rat, Sawdust,” went on Freddie. “But I’m glad you weren’t. I like you!”


  The cat purred again. She seemed to like Freddie, too. Soon she curled up beside him, and Freddie put his arm around her. And, before he knew it he was asleep again, and so was Sawdust. She had found her way into the strange play-house while wandering about the lumber yard as she often did, taking walks, I suppose, to make sure there were no mice or rats about.

  It was not long after this that Mr. Bobbsey left the office to go over to one part of his lumber yard to see about some boards a man wanted to buy. On the way Freddie’s father passed the place where James, the watchman, was sitting by the shingles.

  “Well, did Freddie bother you much?” asked Mr. Bobbsey. “I’ll look after him now, as I’m not so busy.”

  “Why no, he didn’t bother me, Mr. Bobbsey,” said the watchman. “He wanted to build a toy boat, and he brought some nails and string. I had to go over to help Jason load his wagon, and when I came back, having left Freddie to hunt for some boards, he wasn’t here. Didn’t he go back to the office?”

  “Why no, he didn’t!” exclaimed Mr. Bobbsey, in some alarm. “I haven’t seen him. I wonder where he can have gone?”

  They looked up and down the rows between the piles of lumber, but no Freddie could be seen.

  “Perhaps he went home,” said James. “You could find out by calling Mrs. Bobbsey on the telephone.”

  “So I could, yes. But if I asked if Freddie were home she would want to know why I asked, and why he wasn’t here with me—that is, if he wasn’t at home. Then she would worry for fear something had happened to him. No, I’ll have to find out in some other way.”

  “I could take a walk down past the house,” the watchman said. “I could look in and see if Freddie was there. If he wasn’t, we’d know he was somewhere around the yard yet.”

  “Well, you might do that,” Mr. Bobbsey said. He himself was a little worried now. “But don’t let Mrs. Bobbsey see you,” he went on to James. “If she did she’d want to know what you were doing away from the yard. Just walk past the house. If Freddie is at home he’ll be out in the yard playing. If you don’t see him let me know. Meanwhile, I’ll be searching around here for him, and I’ll get some of the men to look with me.”

  “All right,” agreed James, hurrying off. While he was gone Mr. Bobbsey looked around the many lumber piles near the bundles of shingles where Freddie had last been seen. But no little boy was in sight, being, as we know, fast asleep, with the big yard cat, under the pile of boards which had fallen in the shape of a little play-house.

  “This is strange,” thought Mr. Bobbsey. “Freddie never goes home by himself after he has come to see me without telling me that he is going. I wonder where he is.”

  Mr. Bobbsey looked and called Freddie’s name, but the little fellow, being sound asleep, did not hear.

  Then Mr. Bobbsey told several of his men about the little lost boy, and they began searching for him. No one thought of looking under the pile of boards, for there were many such in the yard. And so Freddie remained hidden.

  When he was not to be found Mr. Bobbsey grew more and more anxious, and he hoped that James would come back to say that Freddie was safe at home.

  But when the watchman came back he said:

  “Your other children are playing in the yard of your house, Mr. Bobbsey. Bert, Nan and Flossie are there. But Freddie isn’t with them.”

  “Maybe he is in the house, getting something to eat,” said Mr. Bobbsey.

  “No, I hardly think so,” answered James, “for when I was going past the house, on the other side of the street so they wouldn’t see me, a little boy, who plays with Freddie, came running along. He called to Nan, this other little boy did, to know where Freddie was.”

  “And what did Nan say?”

  “She said Freddie was down at the lumber yard.”

  “Then he can’t have gone home, or Nan would know it. He must be around here somewhere. I—I hope he didn’t go near the lake. And yet he might, with his idea of boats.”

  “Oh, I don’t believe he would do that, Mr. Bobbsey,” said James. “We’ll find him.”

  Mr. Bobbsey and the men scattered through the lumber yard, looking on all sides of the many piles. But still no one thought of looking under the boards that had slid off the stack upon which Freddie had climbed. For it did not seem as though any one could be beneath them.

  “Well, I don’t know what to do,” said Mr. Bobbsey, after a bit. “I guess I’ll blow the big fire whistle, and get all the men from the shops and every place to help us look. This is too bad!”

  Besides the lumber yard Mr. Bobbsey owned a mill, or shop, where boards were made into doors, windows and other parts of houses. Many men worked in this shop.

  All this while Freddie was peacefully sleeping under the lumber, with Sawdust curled up near him, purring happily.

  Finally, Freddie awakened again, and as he sat up and rubbed his eyes he could not, for a moment, remember where he was: Then he looked down and saw Sawdust, and he said:

  “Oh, I’m in my little lumber play-house yet. I must get out. Where did you get in, Sawdust? Maybe I can get out the way you came in. Show me where it was.”

  Sawdust mewed. Perhaps she knew that Freddie was in trouble, though she did not quite understand all that he said. At any rate the big cat walked over toward a large crack, and squeezed her way through it to the outside.

  “That’s too small for me,” said Freddie, for he could not get even one foot through the opening. “I’ll have to find a bigger place.”

  He looked all over but there was none. Then he called out as loudly as he could:

  “Papa! Mamma! Help me! I’m under the lumber!”

  Freddie paused to listen. He heard some one walking past the pile of lumber. The little boy called as hard as he could:

  “Get me out! Get me out!”

  Then, suddenly, a voice asked:

  “Who are you and where are you?”

  “I’m Freddie Bobbsey,” was the answer. “I’m down under the lumber and I can’t get out. Please help me. Who are you?”

  “Of course I’ll help you, Freddie,” was the answer. “I’m Tommy Todd. I just happened to pass through the lumber yard. I’m going to ask your father if he has any errands for me to do, as it’s Saturday and there is no school. But I’ll get you out first, Freddie.”

  “Oh Tommy! I’m so glad you came. Please get me out!”

  But to get Freddie out from under the lumber was too hard for little Tommy Todd.

  “I’ll run and tell your father, Freddie,” Tommy said. “Don’t be afraid. He’ll soon get you out.”

  “I’m not afraid,” Freddie said.

  Tommy ran up to Mr. Bobbsey, who was just getting ready to blow the big mill whistle and call out all the men, more than a hundred of them, to help search for the missing boy.

  “Oh Mr. Bobbsey!” cried Tommy. “Freddie can’t get out and I can’t get him out.”

  “Where is he? Tell me quickly!”

  “He’s under a pile of lumber. I’ll show you!”

  Tommy quickly led the way, Mr. Bobbsey, James and some other men following. When they reached the pile of lumber that had slid over Freddie’s head the men carefully but quickly lifted away the boards, and the little boy could come out.

  “Oh Freddie!” cried his father. “I was so worried about you! What happened?”

  Then Freddie told of having climbed up on the lumber pile, and of its having toppled over with him, but not hurting him in the least.

  “It was just like a play-house,” he said. “And I heard a scratching and thought it was a rat. But it was Sawdust.”

  “I saw the cat come out from under the lumber,” said Tommy. “But I did not know Freddie was there until I heard him calling. I was coming to you to ask if you had any work for me this Saturday, as there isn’t any school. I need to work to earn money for my grandmother.”

  “Work? Of course I can give you work,” said Mr. Bobbsey, who had Freddie in his arms. “You deserve a good reward for findi
ng Freddie for us, and you shall have it. I’m glad I didn’t have to call out all the men, for if I had blown the big whistle Mrs. Bobbsey would have heard it, and she would have thought there was a fire.”

  So Tommy Todd was rewarded for having found where the lost Freddie was. The fresh air boy was given some easy work to do, for which he was well paid, and besides this, Mr. Bobbsey gave the grandmother five dollars to buy the food and the clothing which she needed very much.

  “I’m glad I happened to come past the lumber pile where you were,” said Tommy a little later, when he was taking Freddie home, for Mr. Bobbsey sent Tommy along to see that the little chap did not get lost again.

  “I’m glad, too,” said Freddie. “I’m not going to climb up on lumber piles any more. But we’ve got to make that boat, Tommy, and sail off to find your father.”

  “Yes, I wish we could find him, but I’m afraid we can’t. Anyhow it will be Winter soon and it isn’t any fun going to sea in the Winter, so my grandmother says. Maybe we’d better wait until it’s Summer again before we think of the ship.”

  “Well, maybe we had, Tommy.”

  CHAPTER XIII

  The First Frost

  Mrs. Bobbsey was quite surprised when Tommy brought Freddie home, and she was more surprised when she heard what had happened, and how Freddie had been caught under the lumber.

  “Dear me, I am glad they found you, Freddie!” she cried, kissing him.

  “And so Tommy found you; did he?” asked Nan, smiling at the boy whom they had met in the train the day the fresh air children came home from the country.

  “Yes,” Tommy answered. “I was going on an errand for my grandmother, and the shortest way was through the lumber yard. I thought it would be a good chance to ask your father for work. And I am to have it—every Saturday and on some other days after school.”

  “You’ll earn a lot of money,” Freddie said, “and then we can build our ship.”

  “He can’t get that idea out of his head,” remarked Bert to Nan.

  “Oh, he’s anxious to help Tommy find his father,” Nan answered. “I wish it would happen, but I’m afraid he never will be found.”