“What is going on here?” asked Mr. Bobbsey.
“I’m going away, if that’s what you mean!” snapped out Mr. Blipper in angry tones. “I traced this runaway adopted son of mine here, and I’m taking him back with me. This lady says I can’t!”
“I told him to wait until you came back,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “I didn’t want him to take poor Bob away. I don’t believe he has any right to take him.”
“I don’t know who you are!” spluttered the angry Mr. Blipper. “But you haven’t any right to stop me.”
“This lady is my wife,” said Mr. Bobbsey, and he spoke in such a way that Mr. Blipper at once lost some of his bluster. “She has the same right that any one has to inquire into something he thinks is wrong.”
“But this isn’t wrong!” cried Mr. Blipper. “I have a right to this boy. I adopted him legally, I did! I gave him a name when he didn’t have any before. Bob Guess I call him, ’cause I had to guess at his name. I took him out of an orphan asylum and give him a good home!”
“Home!” cried Bob Guess. “You didn’t give me any home! You keep dragging me all over the country with that merry-go-round! I haven’t any home except sleepin’ in a truck.”
“You were glad enough to come with me!” sneered Mr. Blipper.
“Anyway, I’m sick of it. That’s why I ran away.”
“Well, you’re going to run back again!” said Mr. Blipper, grimly, as he gave the boy a shake.
“Wait a minute,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “Have you a legal right to this boy?”
“That’s what I have. I expected some such question would be asked of me, and I brought along my papers. There they are. You can look ’em over for yourself.”
He tossed a long envelope containing papers to Mr. Bobbsey, and the latter looked at the documents.
“Don’t let him take me back!” pleaded Bob Guess. “I don’t like him!”
“I don’t like you, when it comes to that!” sneered the angry man. “But I’m going to have you back! I have a right to you, and you’ve got to work for me.”
“These papers seem to be all right,” said Mr. Bobbsey, slowly. “He is your legal guardian, Bob. You had better go with him, and do as he says. But if he treats you cruelly let me know. I am going to the Bolton County Fair, and when I get there I’ll keep my eye on you.”
“Say, who are you, anyhow?” sneered Mr. Blipper.
“My name is Bobbsey,” answered the children’s father. “I live in Lakeport. I thought perhaps you might know my name.”
“How should I know your name?”
“It was on some papers in my coat that disappeared from the Sunday school picnic grounds the day you had trouble with your engine near the grove.”
Mr. Blipper looked first at Bob and then at Mr. Bobbsey.
“Say!” cried the merry-go-round owner, “maybe you think I know something about your coat.”
“Maybe you do,” answered Mr. Bobbsey, easily.
“And the lap robe!” whispered Bert.
“Hush, Bert!” warned his mother. “Leave this to Daddy!”
“Well, I don’t know anything about your coat or a lap robe, either!” declared Mr. Blipper. “All I know is that Bob ran away from me, and now I’m going to run him back!”
There seemed no help for it. Mr. Bobbsey sadly shook his head when the twins and his wife pleaded with him to do something to save Bob.
“Those papers show the boy is adopted,” he said. “I can do nothing. But we’ll keep our eyes on him. We are going to the fair, and if Bob is not kindly treated I’ll complain to the Children’s Aid Society.”
“You don’t need to worry!” gruffly said Mr. Blipper. “I’ll treat him as well as he deserves.”
“Am I to keep these clothes?” asked Bob, as Mr. Blipper led him away.
“Of course,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “I bought them for you.”
“What’s that? Who’s been giving you clothes?” demanded Mr. Blipper.
“Don’t you think he needed them?” inquired Mrs. Bobbsey, gently.
“Well—er—I was going to buy him a new suit after we took in some money at the Bolton Fair,” sheepishly said Mr. Blipper. “I—I’m much obliged to you folks, though. Bob isn’t a bad boy when he wants to be good. Come on now. I’ve a rig outside and we can get back to the fair grounds tonight if we hurry.”
With a sad look at the friends who had been so kind to him, Bob followed his adopted father out of the room. He did not cry, but he seemed to want to.
“Good-by!” called the Bobbsey twins. “We’ll see you at the fair!”
“Good-by!” echoed Bob Guess.
The Bobbsey twins wondered when they would see him again.
It might be thought that the excitement of the runaway boy who was caught again would keep Bert and Nan awake. Flossie and Freddie were too young to give the matter much attention. But though the older Bobbsey twins felt sorry for the lad, they had the idea that their father would make matters all right concerning him, and so they did not lie awake vainly worrying.
They slept soundly, the night passed quietly, and in the morning after an early breakfast the family were on their way again in the automobile which had been mended during the night.
“We’ll soon be at Meadow Brook Farm, sha’n’t we?” asked Freddie over and over again.
“Yes,” his mother told him.
“And I’m going to milk a cow, I am!” announced Flossie.
“So’m I!” echoed Freddie. “I’m goin’ milk two cows, I am!”
“I guess you mean you’re going to see them milked!” laughed Nan. “Milking cows would be hard work even for Bert.”
“Maybe I could milk a little teeny weeny cow,” suggested Freddie.
“Well, we’ll have some fun, anyhow!” said Nan.
And fun they did have! It started almost as soon as they reached the farm of their Uncle Daniel and Aunt Sarah.
“Say, I’m glad you came!” exclaimed Harry, as he greeted his four cousins while the older folks were talking among themselves. “I have something fine to show you.”
“What?” asked Bert.
“A big swing! You ought to see it! It’s out under the apple tree down by the brook!”
“Oh, I’m going to sail my boat in the brook!” cried Freddie, as soon as he heard the mention of water.
“An’ I’ll get Rosamond an’ give her a ride on your boat!” cried Flossie. Rosamond was a small doll Flossie had brought along.
“All right,” agreed Bert, seeing a chance for the smaller twins to play by themselves while he and Nan experimented with the swing. “You get your boat, Freddie, and you get your doll, Flossie, and we’ll all go down to the brook and apple tree together.”
“Be careful, now!” called Mrs. Bobbsey, as the children ran off.
“We will,” they promised. And really they meant to, but you know how it often is—things happen that you can’t help.
“There’s the swing!” cried Harry, pointing to it dangling from the sturdy limb of the big apple tree. “Daddy put it up for me last week. I’m glad you came. We can have lots of fun in it.”
“We want some swings!” cried Freddie.
“After a bit,” promised Nan. “Sail your boat now, and give Rosamond a ride, Flossie, and you shall have some swings after that.”
The water was more of an attraction for the smaller twins than was the swing, and thus Nan, Bert and Harry had it to themselves. While Flossie and Freddie played with the doll and the boat, the older children took turns seeing how high they could go. Then they would let the “old cat die,” that is, stay in the swing, without trying to make it sway, until it came to a dead stop.
“I know what we can do!” cried Bert, when they were tired of swinging.
“What?” asked Harry.
“We can shinny up the rope like sailors. I can go ’way up to the limb.”
Bert was a sturdy chap, and soon he was “shinnying,” or climbing, up the rope like a human monkey. Then Harry did it,
managing to reach the big limb, to which the rope was fastened, more quickly than had Bert.
“Now it’s my turn!” exclaimed Nan, when the two boys were on the ground again.
“Pooh! Girls can’t climb ropes!” declared Harry.
“Yes, I can, too! You watch!”
Nan was almost as strong as her brother. She caught hold of the rope, and managed to scramble up, though it was hard work.
“You can’t do it!” laughed Harry, when, almost at the top, she paused for a moment.
“Yes, I can! I can! You just watch!”
Nan gave a wiggle, another scramble, and then, just as she managed to get one leg over the limb, she slipped.
“Oh! Oh!” she screamed. “I’m going to fall!”
But she did not fall. Instead, one foot caught in a loop of the rope, and there poor Nan hung, half way over the limb, one leg dangling down, and her hands clutching the rope. She could neither get up nor down! She was caught on the limb of the tree!
CHAPTER X
Down A Big Hole
For a few seconds Bert and Harry were so surprised at what had happened to Nan that they could do nothing but stand and stare up at her.
As for Nan, she also was surprised at the suddenness of her tumble when she was almost perched safely astride the limb to which the rope of the swing was tied. As she felt herself slipping she had clung with all her might, one hand and part of her arm over the branch, another hand grasping the rope, one leg partly up over the limb, and the other leg tangled in the rope.
This was what had caused the trouble—the leg getting caught and tangled in a loop of the rope. But for that, Nan could have swung this leg up over the limb and so have perched there in safety.
“Come on down!” cried Harry.
“Don’t fall!” begged Bert. “Oh, Nan, be careful! Mother’ll think I oughtn’t to have let you climb up there!”
“You didn’t—you didn’t let—me!” panted Nan. “I did it myself!”
“Well, come on down!” begged Harry again.
“I—I can’t!” half sobbed Nan, with a catch in her voice. “I—I’m stuck! Go get a ladder—get something to help me. I can’t hold on much longer!”
“Shall we get the tennis net and let you fall into that?” asked Bert, starting toward the swing with half an idea that he could climb up the rope and loosen Nan.
“No, I don’t want to fall!” cried his sister. “Get a ladder so I can climb down. Call daddy!”
“I’ll call my father!” offered Harry. “He’s got a long ladder!”
“Do something! Quick!” begged Nan desperately.
As Bert and Harry started to run toward the house to summon their fathers and mothers, Flossie and Freddie, tired of playing with the little boat in the brook, came up to the apple tree. Freddie saw Nan hanging there, some distance above the ground.
“Oh, Nan’s doing circus tricks! Nan’s doing circus tricks!” cried Freddie. “Look at her, Flossie. Nan’s doing circus tricks an’ I want to do ’em, too!”
“No, no, Freddie!” screamed Nan, as her little brother ran under the limb to which she was desperately clinging. “Go away! Don’t stand under me this way! I might fall on you!”
“Oh, I’m going to get mother!” exclaimed Flossie. “She won’t want you to fall, Nan!”
“Well, I—I can’t hold on much longer!” sobbed Nan.
Though if she had let go her grasp on the tree limb she would probably not have fallen, for one foot was tangled in the swing rope. However, hanging by one leg high in the air would not have been very pleasant. Nan was not enough of a circus performer for that, though she and Bert had often done “stunts” on a trapeze in the back yard at home when they gave “shows.”
However, help was on its way to Nan. The excited story told by Harry and Bert to the two Mr. Bobbseys started both men into action. They got a long ladder and, having run with it to the tree, placed it up against the limb. Then Mr. Richard Bobbsey climbed up, while his brother held steady the foot of the ladder on the ground.
“Why, Nan!” exclaimed her father, as he climbed up to set her free, “what in the world made you do this?”
“I—I don’t know, Daddy! But Bert and Harry climbed up, and they did it all right. But when I went up something slipped, and I nearly fell, and I grabbed the rope and the branch, and there I was!”
“Well, it’s a good thing you stuck here instead of falling down there,” and Mr. Bobbsey looked to the ground below. “You’re all right now. Don’t cry.”
But Nan could not help crying a little, though she was glad she could feel her father’s arms about her. Mr. Bobbsey soon loosened the little girl’s leg from the loop of the rope, and then he carried her down the ladder.
“You’re just like a fireman, aren’t you, Daddy?” cried Freddie, as his father set Nan on the ground.
“Well, a little, yes,” admitted Mr. Bobbsey, with a laugh. “But better not any more of you try those firemen tricks,” he warned the children as the ladder was taken down.
“I’ll have to put the swing away if you climb the rope any more,” threatened Uncle Daniel.
“We won’t shinny up it any more,” promised Bert and Harry, and their fathers knew that if the boys did not do it Nan would not.
“I guess we’ve had enough swinging,” said Bert. “Let’s play something else, Harry. Got any new games?”
“We can go down to the pond and fish.”
“Oh, I love to fish!” exclaimed Nan. “What kind of fish can you catch in the pond, Harry?”
“Bullfrogs, mostly.”
“They aren’t fish,” laughed Nan.
“Well, it’s just as much fun,” went on the country boy.
“I guess I’d better go help mother unpack the trunks,” Nan said, for she saw the expressman drive up with two trunks that had been sent on ahead. “Mother will want me to help her get the things out so we can go to the Bolton County Fair to-morrow. You’re coming, aren’t you, Harry?”
“Sure! It’ll be great. But now we’ll go fishing for bullfrogs. Come on, Bert!”
“I want to fish!” begged Freddie, hearing this magic word.
“No, you and Flossie come with me,” directed Nan, knowing that the two boys would not have much fun if they had to watch the small children and keep them from tumbling into the pond.
“Don’t want to come with you!” pouted Flossie. “We wants to go fishing!”
“How would you and Freddie like to go after eggs?” asked Nan, as she saw her brother and Harry making signals to her for her to do her best to keep Flossie and Freddie from following. “Wouldn’t you like to gather eggs?”
“Where do you get the eggs?” asked Freddie, who had forgotten.
“In the barn. We’ll take the eggs out of the nests, and you and Flossie can carry the eggs in a little basket to Aunt Bobbsey.”
“Oh, yes!” cried Flossie. “I want to do that!”
“So do I!” added Freddie. Anything Flossie wanted to do he generally did also.
“All right,” said Nan, waving to Bert and Harry to hurry away before the small twins changed their minds. “Come with me, and after I help mother unpack the trunk we’ll go and get the eggs.”
As it happened, however, Mrs. Bobbsey did not need Nan’s help. Aunt Sarah said she would aid in getting the things out of the trunks, so Nan was allowed to go with Flossie and Freddie to the barn to gather eggs.
What fun it was to climb over the sweet hay, sliding down little hills of it and landing on the barn floor, where more hay made a place like a cushion! What fun it was to look in at the horses chewing their fodder! And when the children poked their heads in the horses stopped eating, to turn around and look to see who was watching them.
“Oh, I’ve found some eggs!” suddenly cried Flossie, as she spied some of the white objects in a nest in the hay.
“Pick them up carefully,” advised Nan. “Eggs break very easily.”
“I want to help pick up the eggs!” cried
Freddie, hurrying over to his little sister’s side.
“No, you go find a nest of your own!” exclaimed Flossie. “These are my eggs!”
“There are plenty of nests,” said Nan. “You ought each to find two or three. Come on, Freddie, we’ll look for a nest for you. Be careful of those eggs, Flossie! I guess I’d better help you pick them up and put them in a basket while Freddie looks for another nest.”
So while Nan stayed with Flossie, Freddie started off by himself to look for another nest. And as Nan discovered a second nest not far from where Flossie had found the first one, it took the sisters some time to pick up all the eggs.
This gave Freddie more time to himself, and he saw a ladder leading into the upper part of the barn where most of the hay was stored.
“I guess maybe I’ll find eggs up there,” he said.
He climbed the ladder, going slowly and carefully, and soon found himself up in the haymow. It was rather dark there, but when he had been in the place a little while Freddie could see better.
“I guess hens come up here to lay ’cause it’s nice and quiet. Now I must find some nests and eggs.”
He walked about over the slippery hay, peering here and there for a cluster of white eggs. Suddenly Freddie felt himself sliding down. Faster and faster he went, feet first, and before he knew it he had slid down into a big hole together with a lot of hay.
“Nan! Nan!” he cried. “Come an’ get me! I’m down in a hole!”
CHAPTER XI
The County Fair
Just as Nan and Flossie finished putting the last of the eggs into their basket they heard Freddie’s cries for help. Surprised and a little frightened, they ran out of that part of the barn where Flossie had found the first nest and Nan the second.
“Freddie! Freddie!” cried Nan. “Where are you, Freddie?”
“Down in a hole!” came the muffled answer.
“What hole?” Nan wanted to know. “Tell me where the hole is so I can come and get you out. What hole, Freddie?”
“Maybe it’s a dark hole,” suggested Flossie. “You ’member the verse: ‘Charcoal! Charcoal! Put me in a dark hole.’ Maybe Freddie is in a dark hole.”
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