Bobbsey, after he had tried two or three times more to drive the animal
back. But it would not go.
"Go on a little farther," suggested Mrs. Bobbsey. "By the time we get
to the trolley he may get tired, and go back. And if we want to lose
him I think we can, by getting on the car quickly."
"But we don't want to lose him!" cried Freddie.
"No, no!" said Flossie. "We want to keep him. He can run along behind
the trolley car. I'll ask the motorman to go slow, papa."
"My! This has been a mixedup day!" sighed Mr. Bobbsey. "I really don't
know what to do."
The dog seemed to think that he was one of the family, now. He came up
to Flossie and Freddie and let them pat him. His tail kept wagging all
the while.
"Well, we'll see what happens where we get to the trolley," decided Mr.
Bobbsey, thinking that there would be the best and only place to get rid
of the dog." Come along, children."
Freddie and Flossie came on, the dog between them, and this seemed to
suit the fine animal. He had found friends, now, he evidently thought.
Mr. Bobbsey wondered why so valuable a dog would leave its home. And he
was very much puzzled as to what he should do if the children insisted
on keeping the animal, and if it came aboard the trolley car.
"There's the car!" exclaimed Bert, as they went around another turn in
the path and came to a road. Down it could be seen the headlight of an
approaching trolley, and also the twin lamps of an oncoming automobile.
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