They had done this—she and Flossie and Freddie. But Bert’s feet were too tightly held in the sticky mud, or whatever it was underneath the water.
“Wait! I’ll come and get you,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. She was just about to wade out to get Bert, shoes, skirts and all, when along came puffing, fat Dinah, and, just ahead of her, her husband, Sam.
“What’s the mattah, Mrs. Bobbsey?” asked the colored man, who did odd jobs around the Bobbsey home.
“It’s Bert! He’s fast in the mud!” answered Mrs. Bobbsey. “Oh, Sam, please hurry and get him out!”
“Yas’am, I’ll do dat!” cried Sam. He did not seem to be frightened. Perhaps he knew that the pond was not very deep where Bert was, and that the boy could not sink down much farther.
Sam had been washing the automobile with the hose, and when he did this he always wore his rubber boots. He had them on now, and so he could easily wade out into the pond without getting wet.
So out Sam waded, half running in fact, and splashing the water all about. But he did not mind that. As did Dinah, he loved the Bobbsey twins—all four of them—and he did not want anything to happen to them.
“Jest you stand right fast, Bert!” said the colored man. “I’ll have yo’ out ob dere in ’bout two jerks ob a lamb’s tail! Dat’s what I will!”
Bert did not know just how long it took to jerk a lamb’s tail twice, even if a lamb had been there. But it did not take Sam very long to reach the small boy.
“Now den, heah we go!” cried Sam.
Standing beside the raft, the colored man put his arms around Bert and lifted him. Or rather, he tried to lift him, for the truth of the matter was that Bert was stuck deeper in the mud than any one knew.
“Now, heah we go, suah!” cried Sam, as he took a tighter hold and lifted harder. And then with a jerk, Bert came loose and up out of the water he was lifted, his feet and legs dripping with black mud, some of which splashed on Sam and on the other twins.
“Oh, what a sight you are!” cried Mrs. Bobbsey.
“Oh, but good land of massy! Ain’t yo’ all thankful he ain’t all drown?” asked Dinah.
“Indeed I am,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “Come on away from there, all of you. Get off the raft! I’m afraid it’s too dangerous to play that game. And, Bert, you must get washed! Oh, how dirty you are!”
Sam carried Bert to shore, and Nan helped Freddie push the raft to the edge of the pond. And then along came Mr. Bobbsey from his lumberyard.
“Well, well!” exclaimed the father of the Bobbsey twins. “What has happened?”
“We had a raft,” explained Freddie.
“And I had to toot the whistle when I wanted it to stop,” added Flossie.
“We were having a nice ride,” said Nan.
“Yes, but what happened to Bert?” asked his father, looking at his muddy son, who truly was a “sight.”
“Well, the raft got stuck,” Bert answered, “and I got off to push it loose. Then I got stuck. It was awful sticky mud. I didn’t know there was any so sticky in the whole world! First I thought it was quicksand. But I held on and then Sam came and got me out. I—I guess I got my pants a little muddy,” he said.
“I guess you did,” agreed his father, and his eyes twinkled as they always did when he wanted to laugh but did not feel that it would be just the right thing to do. “You are wet and muddy. But get up to the house and put on dry things. Then I have something to tell you.”
“Something to tell us?” echoed Nan. “Oh, Daddy! are we going away again?”
“Well, I’m not sure about that part—yet,” replied Mr. Bobbsey. “But I have strange news for you.”
CHAPTER III
Strange News
Bert and Nan Bobbsey looked at one another. They were a little older than Flossie and Freddie, and they saw that something must have happened to make their father come home from the lumber office so early, for on most days he did not come until dinner time. And here it was scarcely eleven o’clock yet, and Dinah was only getting ready to cook the dinner.
“Is it bad news?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey of her husband.
“Well, part of it is bad,” he said. “But no one is hurt, or killed or anything like that.”
“Tell us now!” begged Bert. “Tell us the strange news, Daddy!”
“Oh, I couldn’t think of it while you look the way you do,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “First get washed nice and clean, and put on dry clothes. Then you’ll be ready for the news.”
“I’ll hurry,” promised Bert, as he ran toward the house, followed by Snap, the trick dog that had once been in a circus. Snap had come out of the barn, where he stayed a good part of the time. He wanted to see what all the noise was about when Bert had called as he found himself stuck in the mud.
“Are you sure no one is hurt?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey of her husband. “Are Uncle Daniel and Aunt Sarah all right?”
“Oh, yes, of course.”
“And Uncle William and Aunt Emily?”
“Yes, they’re all right, too. My news is about my cousin, Jasper Dent. You don’t know him very well; but I did, when I was a boy,” went on Mr Bobbsey. “There is a little bad news about him. He has been hurt and is now ill in a hospital, but he is getting well.”
“And is the strange news about him?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey, as she walked on, with Flossie, Freddie and Nan following.
“Yes, about Cousin Jasper,” replied Mr. Bobbsey. “But don’t get worried, even if we should have to go on a voyage.”
“On a voyage?” cried Mrs. Bobbsey in surprise.
“Yes,” and Mr. Bobbsey smiled.
“Do you mean in a real ship, like we played our raft was?” asked Freddie.
“Yes, my little fireman!” laughed Mr. Bobbsey, catching the little bare-footed boy up in his arms. Often Freddie was called little “fireman,” for he had a toy fire engine, and he was very fond of squirting water through the hose fastened to it—a real hose that sprinkled real water. Freddie was very fond of playing he was a fireman.
“And will the ship go on the ocean?” asked Flossie.
“Yes, my little fat fairy!” her father replied, as he caught her up and kissed her in turn.
“If your mother thinks we ought to, after I tell the strange news about Cousin Jasper, we may all take a trip on the deep blue sea.”
“Oh, what fun!” cried Freddie.
“I hope we can go soon,” murmured Nan.
“But Bert mustn’t get off the ship to push it; must he, Daddy?” asked Flossie.
“No, indeed!” laughed her father, as he set her down in the grass. “If he does the water will come up more than above his knees. But now please don’t ask me any more questions until I can sit down after dinner and tell you the whole story.”
The children thought the dinner never would be finished, and Bert, who had put on dry clothes, tried to hurry through with his food.
“Bert, my dear, you must not eat so fast,” remonstrated his mother, as she saw him hurrying.
“Bert is eating like a regular steam engine,” came from Flossie.
At this Nan burst out laughing.
“Flossie, did you ever see an engine eat?” she asked.
“Well, I don’t care! You know what I mean,” returned the little girl.
“Course engines eat!” cried Freddie. “Don’t they eat piles of coal?” he went on triumphantly.
“Well, not an auto engine,” said Nan.
“Yes, that eats up gasolene,” said Bert.
But they were all in a hurry to listen to what their father might have to say, and so wasted no further time in argument. And when the rice pudding was brought in Nan said:
“Dinner is over now, Daddy, for this is the dessert, and when you’re in a hurry to go back to the office you don’t wait for that. So can’t we hear the strange news now?”
“Yes, I guess so,” answered her father, and he drew from his pocket a letter. “This came this morning,” he said, “and I thought it best to come right home a
nd tell you about it,” he said to his wife.
“The letter is from my Cousin Jasper. When we were boys we lived in the same town. Jasper was always fond of the ocean, and often said, when he grew up, he would make a long voyage.”
“Freddie and I were having a voyage on a raft today,” said Flossie. “And we had fun until Bert fell in.”
“I didn’t fall in—I jumped in and I got stuck in the mud,” put in Bert.
“Don’t interrupt, dears, if you want to hear Daddy’s news,” said Mrs. Bobbsey, and her husband, after looking at the letter, as if to make sure about what he was talking, went on.
“Cousin Jasper Dent did become a sailor, when he grew up. But he sailed more on steamboats than on ships with sails that have to be blown by the wind. Many things happened to him, so he has told me in letters that he has written, for I have not seen him very often, of late years. And now the strangest of all has happened, so he tells me here.”
“What is it?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
“Well, he has been shipwrecked, for one thing.”
“And was he cast away on a desert island, like Robinson Crusoe?” asked Bert, who was old enough to read that wonderful book.
“Well, that’s what I don’t know,” went on Mr. Bobbsey. “Cousin Jasper does not write all that happened to him. He says he has been shipwrecked and has had many adventures, and he wants me to come to him so that he may tell me more.”
“Where is he?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
“In a hospital in St. Augustine, Florida,” was the answer.
“Oh, Florida!” exclaimed Flossie. “That’s where the cocoanuts grow; isn’t it, Daddy?”
“Well, maybe a few grow there, but I guess you are thinking of oranges,” her father answered with a smile. “Lots of oranges grow in Florida.”
“And are we going there?” asked Bert.
“That’s what I want to talk to your mother about,” went on Mr. Bobbsey. “Cousin Jasper doesn’t say just what happened to him, nor why he is so anxious to see me. But he wants me to come down to Florida to see him.”
“It would be a nice trip if we could go, and take the children,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “Though, I suppose, this is hardly the time of year to go to such a place.”
“Oh, it is always nice in Florida,” her husband said, “though of course when it is winter here it seems nicer there because it is so warm, and the flowers are in blossom.”
“And do the oranges grow then?” asked Freddie.
“I guess so,” his father said. “At any rate it is now early spring here, and even in Florida, where it is warmer than it is up North where we live, I think it will not be too hot for us. Besides, I don’t believe Cousin Jasper intends to stay in Florida, or have us stay there.”
“Why not?” Mrs. Bobbsey asked.
“Well, in his letter he says, after he has told me the strange news, he hopes I will go on a voyage with him to search for some one who is lost.”
“Some one lost!” replied Nan. “What does he mean, Daddy?”
“That’s what I don’t know. I guess Cousin Jasper was too ill to write all he wanted to, and he would rather see me and tell me. So I came to ask if you would like to go to Florida,” and Mr. Bobbsey looked at his wife and smiled.
“Oh, yes! Let’s go!” begged Bert.
“And pick oranges!” added Flossie.
“Please say you’ll go, Mother!” cried Nan. “Please do!”
“I want to go in big steamboat!” fairly shouted Freddie. “And I’ll take my fire engine with me and put out the fire!”
“Oh, children dear, do be quiet one little minute and let me think,” begged Mrs. Bobbsey. “Let me see the letter, dear,” she said to her husband.
Mr. Bobbsey handed his wife the sheets of paper, and she read them carefully.
“Well, they don’t tell very much,” she said as she folded them and handed them back. “Still your cousin does say something strange happened when he was shipwrecked, wherever that was. I think you had better go and see him, if you can leave the lumberyard, Dick.”
“Oh, yes, the lumber business will be all right,” said Mr. Bobbsey, whom his wife called Dick. “And would you like to go with me?” he asked his wife.
“And take the children?”
“Yes, we could take them. A sail on the ocean would do them good, I think. They have been shut up pretty much all winter.”
“Will we go on a sailboat?” asked Bert.
“No, I hardly think so. They are too slow. If we go we will, very likely, go on a steamer,” Mr. Bobbsey said.
“Oh, goody!” cried Freddie, while Mrs. Bobbsey smiled her consent.
“Well, then, I’ll call it settled,” went on the twins’ father, “and I’ll write Cousin Jasper that we’re coming to hear his strange news, though why he couldn’t put it in his letter I can’t see. But maybe he had a good reason. Now I’ll go back to the office and see about getting ready for a trip on the deep, blue sea. And I wonder—”
Just then, out in the yard, a loud noise sounded.
Snap, the big dog, could be heard barking, and a child’s voice cried:
“No, you can’t have it! You can’t have it! Oh, Nan! Bert! Make your dog go ’way!”
Mr. Bobbsey, pushing back his chair so hard that it fell over, rushed from the room.
CHAPTER IV
Getting Ready
“Oh, dear!” cried Mrs. Bobbsey, “I wonder what has happened now!”
“Maybe Snap is barking at a tramp,” suggested Bert. “I’ll go and see.”
“It can’t be a tramp!” Nan spoke with scorn. “That sounded like a little girl crying.”
“It surely did,” Mrs. Bobbsey said. “Wait a minute, Bert. Don’t go out just yet.”
“But I want to see what it is, Mother!” and Bert paused, half way to the door, out of which Mr. Bobbsey had hurried a few seconds before.
“Your father will do whatever needs to be done,” said Bert’s mother. “Perhaps it may be a strange dog, fighting with Snap, and you might get bitten.”
“Snap wouldn’t bite me.”
“Nor me!” put in Nan.
“No, but the strange dog might. Wait a minute.”
Flossie and Freddie had also started to leave the room to go out into the yard and see what was going on, but when they heard their mother speak about a strange dog they went back to their chairs by the table.
Then, from the yard, came cries of:
“Make him give her back to me, Mr. Bobbsey! Please make Snap give her back to me!”
“Oh, that’s Helen Porter!” cried Nan, as she heard the voice of a child. “It’s Helen, and Snap must have taken something she had.”
“I see!” exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey, looking out the door. “It’s Helen’s doll. Snap has it in his mouth and he’s running with it down to the end of the yard.”
“Has Snap really got Helen’s doll?” asked Flossie.
“Yes,” answered her mother. “Though why he took it I don’t know.”
“Well, if it’s only Snap, and no other dog is there, can’t I go out and see?” asked Bert. “Snap won’t hurt me.”
“No, I don’t believe he will,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “Yes, you may all go out. I hope Snap hasn’t hurt Helen.”
Helen Porter was a little girl who lived next door to the Bobbsey twins, and those of you who have the book about camping on Blueberry Island will remember her as the child who, at first, was thought to have been taken away by the Gypsies.
“Oh, Helen! What is the matter, my dear?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey, as she hurried out into the yard, followed by Bert, Nan, Flossie and Freddie.
“Did Snap bite you?” asked Nan, looking toward her father, who was running after the dog that was carrying the little girl’s doll in his mouth.
“No, Snap didn’t bite me! But he bit my doll!” Helen answered.
“It doesn’t hurt dolls to bite ’em,” said Bert, with a laugh.
“It does so!” cried Helen, turning her tear-fi
lled eyes on him. “It makes all their sawdust come out!”
“So it does, my dear,” said Mrs. Bobbsey kindly. “But we’ll hope that Snap won’t bite your doll as hard as that. If he does I’ll sew up the holes to keep the sawdust in. But how did he come to do it?”
“I—I guess maybe he liked the cookie my doll had,” explained Helen, who was about as old as Flossie.
“Did your doll have a cookie?” asked Nan.
“Yes. I was playing she was a rich lady doll,” went on the little girl from next door, “and she was taking a basket of cookies to a poor doll lady. Course I didn’t have a whole basket of cookies,” explained Helen. “I had only one, but I made believe it was a whole basket full.”
“How did you give it to your doll to carry?” asked Nan, for she had often played games this way herself, making believe different things. “How did your doll carry the cookie, Helen?”
“She didn’t carry it,” was the answer. “I tied it to her with a piece of string so she wouldn’t lose it. The cookie was tied fast around her waist.”
“Oh, then I see what happened,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “Snap came up to you, and he smelled the cookie on your doll; didn’t he?”
“Yes’m,” answered Helen.
“And he must have thought you meant the cookie for him,” went on Nan’s mother. “And he tried to take it in his mouth; didn’t he?”
“Yes’m,” Helen answered again.
“And when he couldn’t get the cookie loose, because you had it tied fast to your doll, he took the cookie, doll and all. That’s how it was,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “Never mind, Helen. Don’t cry. Here comes Mr. Bobbsey now, with your doll.”
“But I guess Snap has the cookie,” said Bert with a laugh.
“I’ll get you another one from Dinah,” promised Nan to Helen.
In the meantime Mr. Bobbsey had run down to the lower end of the yard after Snap, the big dog.
“Come here, Snap, you rascal!” he cried. “Come here this minute!”
But for once Snap did not mind. He was rather hungry, and perhaps that accounted for his disobedience. Instead of coming up he ran out of sight behind the little toolhouse. Mr. Bobbsey went after him, but by the time he reached the spot Snap was nowhere to be seen.
The Bobbsey Twins Megapack Page 122