“Yes, he’s cross,” agreed Freddie. “And he was mean to Bob Guess. But maybe Mr. Blipper isn’t in that room. I’m going to look!”
But Freddie never did. He got down off the old box he was using for a seat, under a part of the roof that didn’t leak, when Flossie gave a cry, and pointed out-of-doors.
“Look!” she exclaimed.
“Is somebody coming?” Freddie wanted to know.
“No, but I see a boat,” Flossie went on. “We can get in the boat and row back on the fair grounds and we’ll be all right.”
Freddie looked to where she pointed and saw a rowboat drawn up on the shore.
“If it’s got oars in we could row,” he said, for both he and his little sister knew something of handling boats, their father having taught them.
“Let’s go down and look,” proposed Flossie. “It isn’t raining so hard now.”
The big drops were not, indeed, pelting down quite so fast, but it was still far from dry.
Getting under the rubber blanket again, the children ran out of the cabin and toward the boat. They were delighted to find oars in it, and, seeing that the rowboat was in good shape, Freddie got in.
“Ouch!” he exclaimed as he sat down on a wet seat. “Here, wait a minute before you sit there, Flossie. I’ll put the rubber blanket down to sit on.”
The inside of the rubber blanket was dry, and Freddie put the wet side down on the wooden seat. This gave the children something more comfortable to sit on than a wet piece of wood.
“We’ll each take an oar and row,” proposed Freddie, for he and Flossie were sitting on the same seat. This was the only way to use the same rubber blanket.
Loosening the rope by which the boat was made fast to a stump on shore, Freddie pushed out into the lake. The rain had almost stopped now, and the children were feeling happier.
“Now we’ll row home,” announced Freddie.
“Had we better go back and get some of the crackers we left under the stump?” asked Flossie. “Maybe it’s a long way to the fair grounds or to Meadow Brook Farm, and we might get hungry.”
“Oh, I guess we’ll soon be home,” said Freddie, hopefully. “Come on and row, Flossie.”
Together they rowed the boat out from shore. But they could not make the heavy craft go very fast. There was water in the bottom, probably from the rain and perhaps because the boat leaked. But Freddie and Flossie did not think about this, even though their feet were getting wet. Or, at least, wetter. Their feet were already wet from having tramped about in the heavy rain.
“We’ll soon be home now,” said Freddie again.
They were some little distance out from the shore, two brave but tired and miserable little sailors, when, all at once, it began to rain again.
“Oh, dear!” cried Flossie, letting go her oar, “I’m getting all soaked again!”
“Don’t you care,” advised her brother. “Keep on rowing!”
But Flossie cried, shook her head, and would not pick up the oar. Freddie could not row the boat alone, and he did not know what to do. Down pelted the rain, harder than before.
“I want to go back where we were!” sobbed Flossie. “Back to the cabin. Maybe we can build a fire in the stove and get warm! I’m cold!”
“All right; we’ll go back!” agreed Freddie. He was beginning to fear it was not so easy to row home as he had hoped.
Down came the rain, and with it came a fog. Soon the children were enveloped in the white mist, and they could see only a little distance from the boat in which they sat.
“Come on! Row!” called Freddie to his sister. “We’ll row back to the cabin.”
“How do you know where it is?” Flossie asked, as she took up the oar again.
“Oh, I guess I can find it,” said her brother. “You hold your oar still in the water and I’ll pull on mine and turn us around.” He knew how to do this quite well, and soon the boat was turned, and the children were again pulling as hard as they could pull.
It was by good luck and not by any skill of theirs that they soon reached land again. They might, for all they knew about it, have rowed out into the middle of the lake.
But soon a bumping sound told them they had reached shore, and Freddie scrambled out and held the boat while Flossie made her way to land.
“Is it the same place?” she asked, as Freddie reached for the rubber blanket.
“Yes, I can see the old cabin. We’ll go up there and get warm.”
Up the little hill, through the rain, trudged the children, getting what shelter they could under the blanket. Even Freddie was beginning to lose heart now, for he could see that darkness was coming on, and they were far from home. The rain, too, was pouring down harder than ever.
“Oh, dear! Oh, dear!” sighed Flossie.
“Don’t cry!” begged her brother. “I’ll make a fire and we’ll eat some more crackers. I’ll go get them from under the stump.”
“I’ll go with you,” declared Flossie, firmly, “I’m not going to stay alone.”
Together they pulled out some of the lunch they had found in the balloon basket. Back to the shack they went, and Freddie was looking about for some matches in the old cabin when Flossie suddenly called out:
“Hey! I hear something!”
CHAPTER XX
A Happy Meeting
Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey and the friends who had gone with them in Captain Craig’s motor-boat to search for the runaway balloon, waited anxiously after they had run on the rocks for what was to happen next.
“Is there any danger?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
“No, lady, there doesn’t seem to be—that is, if you mean danger of sinking,” said Captain Craig. “As I remarked at first, we’re plumb fast on the rocks. But maybe if we were to get out and thus lighten the boat, she would float off the rocks and we could keep on.”
“That’s a good idea!” declared Mr. Bobbsey. “We must keep on, no matter what happens, and find those children!”
“I think we’ll find them!” declared Mr. Trench, and he seemed so much in earnest that Mrs. Bobbsey asked:
“When?”
“Very soon now,” answered the balloon man. “If my gas bag came down here on Hemlock Island—that’s where we are now—it won’t take long to search all over it and find your Flossie and Freddie. That’s what I think.”
“But first let me see how badly the boat is damaged,” went on the captain. “I’m afraid it’s in bad shape.”
“Can’t we get away from here?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey. “That is, I mean, after we find the children? I wouldn’t go until we have found them!” she exclaimed.
“It all depends on what shape my boat is in,” went on the captain. “As soon as you are all out I’ll take a look.”
The searching party stood about in the rain on the shore of Hemlock Island under the dripping trees, the drops splashing on their rubber coats, while Captain Craig looked over his boat. He took some little time to do this, and at last he shook his head in gloomy fashion.
“Well?” asked Mr. Bobbsey.
“Not well—bad!” answered the captain. “We can’t go on until the boat is mended. She isn’t as badly smashed as I thought, and it doesn’t leak much, which is a good thing. But I can’t use the engine to drive her along until it’s fixed. We’ll have to stay on the island until I get help, I guess.”
“How are we going to get help in all this rain and fog?” Mr. Bobbsey wanted to know.
“There used to be some campers’ huts here,” said the captain. “Maybe some of those fellows left a rowboat. I could go over to the mainland in that and get help. Some of you can come with me if you like.”
“I’m not going to!” announced Mrs. Bobbsey. “I’m going to stay here and find Flossie and Freddie!”
“So am I, my dear!” added Mr. Bobbsey.
“Well, then, let’s look around for a boat. If I find one I’ll go for help in it, and you can stay here,” said Captain Craig.
He made his own damaged
craft fast close to the shore, and then the searching party set off through the woods to look for a cabin, a rowboat, and for the missing children.
“It ought to be easy to see that balloon, it’s so big,” said Captain Craig.
“I can spot that balloon of mine as soon as any one, I guess,” said Mr. Trench. “This isn’t the first time I’ve hunted for it. You never can tell exactly where a balloon will come down.”
Through the underbrush, between trees, and in the dripping rain and swirling fog, the searching party tramped on. Suddenly one of the men gave a cry.
“I see something!” he shouted.
“Is it my children?” Mrs. Bobbsey asked, her voice trembling with eagerness.
“No, I think it’s the balloon,” was the answer.
And the balloon it was. Draped over bushes and trees was the big gas bag, now almost emptied of the vapor that had lifted it and carried it away from the fair grounds with Flossie and Freddie in the basket.
“Oh, but where are my little ones—my Bobbsey twins?” cried the mother.
“They must be somewhere around here,” said Captain Craig.
And then, thrilling the hearts of all, came two young voices, calling:
“Daddy! Mother! Here we are! Oh, we’re so glad you came! Here we are!”
Out of the woods rushed Flossie and Freddie, to be caught up in the arms of Mother and Daddy Bobbsey.
“We—we were in the hut!” breathlessly explained Flossie. “And I heard a noise, and I said for Freddie to hark, and he harked, and then we heard talking and we ran out and—and here we are!”
“Yes, darlings, here you are!” cried Mrs. Bobbsey, tears running down her cheeks. “But, oh, why did you ever do it? Why did you get into the balloon?”
“Oh, jest ’cause,” answered Freddie. And they all laughed at his answer.
CHAPTER XXI
Bert, Nan, and Bob
While this happy meeting and reunion was taking place on Hemlock Island and while the smaller Bobbsey twins were thus made happy by finding their father and mother again, Bert and Nan were very unhappy back at Meadow Brook Farm. They had safely reached the home of their uncle and aunt, being taken there in Mr. Blackford’s automobile.
“Oh, dear me, what dreadful news!” exclaimed Aunt Sarah, when told about Flossie and Freddie having been carried away in the balloon. “Shall we ever see those dear children again?”
“Of course we shall, Mother!” said Uncle Daniel, with a laugh. “Don’t worry, Flossie and Freddie will be all right.”
And of course Flossie and Freddie were, in the end, only Bert and Nan and their uncle, aunt, and cousin did not know that then, so of course they worried.
The storm which had been only threatening when Bert and his sister had been sent home from the fair grounds now broke, and it rained hard. At Meadow Brook, as on most farms, little could be done when it rained, and the children saw Uncle Daniel and Aunt Sarah sitting around talking in low tones.
“I just wish I could do something!” gloomily remarked Bert, as he stood with his face pressed against the window, down which the rain drops were chasing each other.
“So do I,” echoed Nan. “I think they might have let us help them look for Flossie and Freddie.”
“I guess your father and mother knew best,” said Harry. “And I think the balloon will come down soon in all this rain. It sure is pouring!”
And it was. The storm kept up all day, and in the afternoon, when Nan was on the verge of tears and Bert had almost made up his mind to go back alone to the fair grounds and see if he could hear any news, there came a knock at the back door.
“There’s some one!” cried Nan, jumping from her chair.
“Maybe it’s Flossie and Freddie come back!” added Bert.
“They wouldn’t knock at the back door,” observed his aunt. “Harry, go and see who it is. Maybe it’s good news.”
Harry returned in a few moments to say:
“It’s that boy from the merry-go-round, Bob Guess. He wants to see your father, Bert.”
“Well, dad isn’t here, and—”
“I told him, and then he said he wants to see some of us—my father I think he means. He has something to tell.”
“Bring him in here,” advised Uncle Daniel, who was trying to read the paper, though half the time he had it upside down, for he was thinking too much about poor Flossie and Freddie to pay attention to anything else.
Bob Guess came in, dripping wet, though not as ragged as when Bert and Nan had first seen him.
“What’s the matter?” asked Uncle Daniel in his jolly voice. “Can’t you do any business at the fair on account of the rain?”
“No. And I don’t want ever to do any more business at the fair,” answered Bob, in such strange tones that they all looked at him.
“Don’t you like the merry-go-round any more?” Bert asked.
“Oh, it isn’t that,” said Bob. “It’s that man Blipper. I can’t stand him any longer! He blamed me for poor business today, and it wasn’t my fault at all. In the first place, all the people went over to see the balloon go up. Hardly anybody took rides on our machine. Then the children—I mean your little brother and sister,” he said to Nan, “got carried off, and everybody got scared for fear something would happen to their children, and they wouldn’t even let ’em ride on the merry-go-round. And then the rain came down, and Blipper seemed to blame me for that.”
“He isn’t a very fair sort of man, even if he has his machine at a county fair,” joked Uncle Daniel.
“He’s terribly ugly,” blurted out Bob Guess. “And I think he’s worse than that!”
“What do you mean?” asked Bert.
“Well, I think he takes things that don’t belong to him,” went on Bob. “Your father lost a coat some time ago, didn’t he?” the strange boy asked the older Bobbsey twins.
“Yes, at our Sunday school picnic,” answered Nan.
“And a lap robe was taken from our auto about the same time,” added Bert.
“That’s what I thought,” said Bob. “Well, would you know any of your father’s papers if you saw them?” he asked, as he began to fumble in his pocket. “I mean would you know his writing on a letter, or something like that?”
“Of course I know my father’s writing!” declared Bert.
“Well, look at this!” said Bob Guess suddenly. He held out an envelope, torn open at one end as if the letter had been taken out.
“That’s father’s writing!” exclaimed Bert. “This is a letter he wrote to Mr. Clarkson who buys lumber from dad. I know, for I’ve been in the office when he called. I guess my father must have been in a hurry and he addressed this letter himself with a pen, and didn’t wait for his typewriter to do it. That’s my father’s writing!”
“Well,” said Bob slowly, “I found that letter in the tent where Mr. Blipper and I live. We sort of camp out at the different fair grounds where we set up the merry-go-round,” he added. “I have to live with Mr. Blipper. He claims I’m his adopted son, but I don’t like him for an adopted father. Anyhow, I saw this letter drop out of his coat. He didn’t see it, and I picked it up.”
“Was it my father’s coat?” asked Nan.
“That I don’t know,” Bob answered. “I never saw your father wearing his coat. But Mr. Blipper used to have an old ragged coat, and right after we had that breakdown at the Sunday school picnic grounds he had a new coat.
“I asked him where he got it, ’cause I thought maybe he’d get me one, I was so ragged, and he said it wasn’t any of my affair where he got his coats. Then the next day I noticed he had a new robe as a blanket for his bed. I asked him about that, too, ’cause I had only a ragged quilt, and he told me to keep still.
“So when you folks asked me if I had seen your father’s coat and the lap robe I didn’t know for sure, and, anyhow, I was afraid to say anything. But I’m not afraid any more.”
“Why not?” asked Uncle Daniel.
“’Cause,” answere
d Bob, “I heard Mr. Blipper and his partner, a man named Hardy, quarreling today. First it started over bad business on account of the rain and nobody riding on the merry-go-round because the balloon was going up. Then I heard my name mentioned and the quarrel grew worse. Mr. Hardy said Mr. Blipper didn’t have any right to treat me as mean as he does. Mr. Blipper said he’d do as he pleased, and then Mr. Hardy said if he did he’d tell on Mr. Blipper.”
“What did he mean—tell on him?” asked Bert.
“I don’t know, exactly,” answered Bob Guess. “It was all sort of strange. Maybe Mr. Hardy meant he was going to tell about Mr. Blipper taking your father’s coat and the lap robe.”
“I’m sure Mr. Blipper must have daddy’s coat,” declared Nan. “This letter dropped from the pocket, and there was money and there were other papers, too.”
“I don’t know anything about them,” murmured Bob.
“Well, I know something!” cried Bert. “And that is this! What Mr. Hardy said he was going to tell on Blipper about was you, Bob Guess!”
“Me?” cried the strange boy.
“Yes, you! I don’t believe you belong to Mr. Blipper at all!”
CHAPTER XXII
Joyous Times
Bob Guess could, for a moment, only stare at Bert after this strange remark.
“What do you mean?” asked the boy from the merry-go-round. “Don’t I have to stay with Mr. Blipper if I don’t want to?”
“I don’t believe you do,” went on Bert. “I heard my father and mother talking about it,” he explained to the others. “My father said he was going to find out if Mr. Blipper had really adopted you. And if you stay here until my father comes back he’ll have this Mr. Blipper arrested for taking his coat. Just you stay here, Bob!”
“I’d like to,” sighed the unhappy lad. “I don’t like Blipper. And if I go back now, after having run away again, he’ll beat me!”
“We won’t let him!” exclaimed Aunt Sarah. “Here, I’ll get you some dry clothes. Harry has a suit you can wear. And then we’ll see about this Blipper man!”
As she started to leave the room to get some dry clothing for Bob Guess, who was soaking wet, there was a noise and some excitement out in the yard. Then Nan caught the sound of a voice she well knew.
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