It seemed so
odd for Freddie to want to go out in the cold, dark night.
"Not this time, my Fat Fireman!" said Freddie's papa. "It may be only a
pile of rubbish on fire. I'll tell you about it when I come back."
"Where does it seem to be?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
"Down near the lake," answered her husband. "I'm afraid, he added in a
lower voice, "that it may be our boathouse. It seems to be about
there."
"Oh, I hope not!" she exclaimed. "Still, better that than our own
house."
"If it's near the lake, papa," said Flossie who heard part of what her
father said, "it will be easy to put it out, for there is plenty of
water."
"Pooh! engines have their own water!" exclaimed Freddie, who had rather
hazy notions as to how fire engines work. He was getting over his
disappointment about not being allowed to go with his father, and had
again cuddled down in his warm crib.
Another engine dashed by the Bobbsey house, and the ringing of the alarm
bell increased. The voices and footsteps of many persons, as they
rushed on to the blaze, could also be heard, and there resounded the cry
of:
"Fire! Fire! Fire!"
Bert, who had been aroused with the others of the household, was
dressing in his room. He felt that his father would let him go to the
fire. At any rate he intended to be all ready when he made his request,
so as not to cause delay.
"Are you going, Bert?" asked Nan, as from her room, next to that of her
brother, she heard him moving around.
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