He did not
want the children to fret now, with still quite a distance yet to go
home, and that in a trolley car. There were bundles to carry, weary
children to look after, and Mrs. Bobbsey was rather tired also. No
wonder Papa Bobbsey thought he had many things to do that night.

"Come along, children," called Mrs. Bobbsey, "it is getting late, and
we are only about half way to the trolley. Oh dear! If that circus
had to be wrecked I wish it could have waited until our train passed."

"Are you very tired?" asked her husband. "I can take that valise."

"Indeed you'll not. You have enough."

"Lemme have it, Massa Bobbsey," pleaded Dinah. "I ain't carryin' half
enough. I's pow'ful strong, I is."

"Nonsense, Dinah!" said Mr. Bobbsey. "I can manage, and your arms are
full."

"I--I wish she had Snoop," said Freddie, but he was so interested in
watching the queer dog that he half forgot his sorrow over the lost cat.

The dog seemed to have made great friends with Flossie. She was
patting him on the head now, for the animal, after marching about on
his hind legs, was down on all fours again.

"Oh, mamma, he's awful nice!" exclaimed Flossie. "He's just as gentle,
and he's soft, like the little toy lamb I used to have."

"Indeed he does seem to be a gentle dog," said Mrs. Bobbsey. "But come
along now. Don't pet him any more, or he may follow us. Flossie, and
whoever owns him would not like it. Come on."

"Forward--march!" called Freddie, strutting along the moonlit path as
much like a soldier as he could imitate, tired as he was.

The Bobbseys and their faithful Dinah started off again toward the
distant trolley that would take them to their home. The dog sat down
and looked after them.

"I--I wish he was ours," said Flossie wistfully, waving her hand to the
dog.

The Bobbseys had not gone on very far before Nan, looking back, called
out:

"Oh, papa, that dog is following us!"

"He is?" exclaimed Mr. Bobbsey. "That's queer. He must have taken a
sudden liking to us. But I guess he'll go back where he belongs pretty
soon. Are you getting tired, little Fat Fireman? And you, my Fat
Fairy?"

"Oh, no, papa," laughed Flossie. "I sat down so much in the train that
I'm glad to stand up now."

"So am I," said Freddie, who made up his mind that he would not say he
was tired if his little sister did not. And yet, truth to tell, the
little Fat Fireman was very weary.

On and on went the Bobbsey