"Haven't you got your lost doll back yet?" asked Freddie, as he moved over on a board, nailed between two trees, to make room for Helen to sit down between him and Flossie.
"No, I haven't found Mollie," answered the little girl, who had come to visit her friends. "I guess she's a gypsy by this time."
"Helen, are you sure a gypsy man took your doll?" asked Nan, who had been sent out by her mother to see if the little ones were all right.
"Yes, I'm sure," answered Helen. "I left her in the yard; and, besides, didn't Johnnie Marsh and me both see the gypsy man runnin' off with her?"
"Well, maybe it did happen that way," said Nan. "But what makes you think we might have seen that gypsy man here, Helen?"
"'Cause Johnnie Marsh said gypsies were camped on Blueberry Island."
"We haven't seen any yet," remarked Bert, who had come out to ask the little girl visitor about some of his boy friends in Lakeport.
"Maybe they're hiding 'cause they've got Helen's doll," said Flossie. "And maybe they're in the cave Freddie and I found."
"Did you find a cave?" asked Helen. "My mamma read me a story once about a cave and a giant that lived in it. Did your cave have a giant inside?"
"It had a noise!" answered Flossie excitedly. "Me and Freddie heard it! But we didn't go see what it was. Are you hungry, Helen?" she asked, suddenly changing the subject.
"Yes, I am. I only had some cake and ice-cream on the boat."
"We're goin' to have ice-cream!" Freddie cried. "Sam chopped up the ice this morning and I heard him turning the freezer. I wish dinner would hurry up and be ready."
It was not long after this that fat Dinah rang the gong which told that the meal was cooked, and soon they were all seated in thedining tent making merry over it. Mrs. Porter told how Helen had been teasing, ever since the Bobbseys had come to Blueberry Island, to be brought for a visit.
"She says that maybe the gypsies who took her doll are here," went on Mrs. Porter; "though I tell her she will never see Mollie again. But Helen begged hard to come, and so—here we are."
"And we're very glad to see you," said Mrs. Bobbsey. "Can't you stay longer than just until this evening?"
"No, not this time, as we didn't bring any extra clothes with us. But Helen might come later for a visit of a few days."
"Oh, yes, please let her come!" begged Flossie.
"We'll see," said Mrs. Porter. "Did you find Snap?" she asked Bert.
"No, we haven't heard anything of him. I was going to ask if you had," and he looked anxiously at Helen's mother.
"No, I haven't heard a word about your pet," answered Mrs. Porter, "though I've asked all your boy friends, and so has Helen.Tommy Todd and the others say they are keeping watch for Snap, and if they see him they'll let you know. Has anything else happened since you've been here?" she asked Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey.
"Nothing much," answered Nan's mother. "We have had a lovely time camping, and——"
"Flossie's and my go-around bugs broke out of their box!" cried Freddie, and then he begged his mother's pardon for interrupting her when she was speaking. His mother smiled, excused him, and then she let him and Flossie, in turn, tell about the missing bugs.
"Come on, we'll play hide-and-go-to-seek," proposed Flossie after dinner, while her father and mother and Mrs. Porter were still sitting about the table talking. "Do you and Nan want to play, Bert?" she asked her older brother.
"No, Flossie," he answered with a smile. "I'm going to help Sam cut wood for the campfire. We're going to have a marshmallow roast to-night."
"Oh, I just wish I could stay!" cried Helen. "I love roast marshmallows!"
"We'll roast some when you come again," said Nan, who was going to do some sewing, so she could not play with the smaller children just then. Soon the game of hide-and-go-to-seek began.
Freddie said he would hide first, and let both girls hunt for him. He thought he could hide so well that he could fool them both, and still get "home safe" before they spied him.
So while Flossie and Helen "blinded" by hiding their faces in their arms against a tree, Freddie stole quietly off to hide. He found a good place behind a pile of brush-wood, and there he cuddled up in a little bunch and waited, after calling "coop!", until he heard the two girls searching for him.
By peeping through the brush Freddie could see Helen and his sister looking all about for him—behind trees, down back of fallen logs, and in clumps of ferns.
Then Freddie saw the girls go far enough away from "home," which was a big oak tree, so that he thought he would have a chance to run in "free."
This he did, and how surprised Flossie andHelen were when they saw him dash out from the pile of brush-wood!
"I'll blind now and let you hide," said Freddie, though if the game was played by the rules it would be his turn to hide again, as he had not been caught.
So this time the little boy hid his head in his arms and began counting up to a hundred by fives, and when he had called out loudly: "Ninety-five—one hundred! Ready or not, I'm coming!" he opened his eyes and began searching.
Freddie had to be more careful about going away from the "home" tree than had the two little girls. Either one of them could have spied him and have run to touch "home" before he did. But Freddie was all alone hunting for his sister and Helen, and when he had his back turned one or the other might run in ahead of him.
"But I'll find 'em," he told himself. "I'll spy 'em both and then it will be my turn to hide again."
Meanwhile, Flossie and Helen were well hidden. Flossie had found two logs lying ona pile of leaves, not far from the "home" tree, and she had crawled down in between them pulling leaves over her. Only her nose stuck out, so she could breathe, and no one could have seen her until they were very close.
Helen had picked out a hollow stump in which to hide. It was deep enough for her to get inside, and the bottom was covered with old leaves, so it was soft and not very dirty. Helen had been given an old dress of Flossie's to put on to play in, so she would not soil her own white one.
"I'm going to have a good place to hide," thought Helen, as she climbed up on a pile of stones outside the old stump and jumped down inside, crouching there.
Then she waited for Freddie to come to find her, and as there was a crack in the stump, she could look out and see where he was. As soon as he got far enough away from "home," Flossie, who was nearer the oak tree, would run in free,—and then she would try to reach it.
Meanwhile she crouched in the hollow stump, trying not to laugh or cough or sneeze, for if she did that Freddie would hear andknow where she was. Helen saw something white in the stump with her. At first she thought it was a piece of paper, but when she picked it up she knew it was cloth. And as she looked at it her eyes grew big with wonder.
Without stopping to think that she was playing the hide-and-go-to-seek game Helen suddenly stood up in the hollow stump, her head and waist showing above the edge like a Jack-in-the-box. In her hand she held the white thing she had found.
Flossie, from her hiding place between the two logs, could look over and see what Helen was doing. Seeing her standing up in plain sight Flossie, in a loud whisper, called to her friend:
"Get down! Get down! Freddie will see you and then you'll be it! Get down!"
"But look! Look at what I found! In the hollow stump!" answered Helen. "Oh, I must show you!"
"No! Get down!" cried Flossie, pulling more leaves over herself. "Here comes Freddie. He'll see you!"
The little boy was coming from the "home" tree. He caught sight of Helen, and cried:
"Tit-tat, Helen! Tit-tat, Helen! I see her in the hollow stump!"
"I don't care if I am it," Helen answered. "Look what I found!"
"What is it?" asked Flossie, sitting up amid the leaves.
"It's the dress Mollie wore when the gypsy took her away!" exclaimed Helen. "Oh, my doll must be somewhere on this island!" and holding the white object high above her head she ran toward Flossie.
The children suddenly lost interest in the game of hide-and-go-to-seek. Freddie thought no more of spying Flossie or Helen. Flossie no longer cared about hiding down between the two logs, and Helen did not care about anything but the white dress she was holding up as she scrambled out of the hollow stump.
"It's my doll's dress!" she said over and over again. "It's my lost doll's dress!"
"Are you sure?" asked Flossie, as she shook the leaves from her dress and hair, and came over to her friend.
"Course I'm sure!" answered Helen. "Look, here's a place where I mended the dress after Mollie tore it when she was playing with Grace Lavine's dollie one day."
Mollie hadn't really torn her dress. Helen had done it herself lifting her pet out of thedoll carriage, but she liked to pretend the doll had done it.
"Let's see the torn place," said Flossie, and Helen showed where a hole had been sewed together.
"I 'member it," Helen went on, "'cause I sewed it crooked. I can sew better now. It's my doll's dress all right."
"It's all wet," said Freddie, who, though a boy, was not too old to be interested in dolls, though he did not play with them. "Maybe the gypsies live around here," he went on, "and they washed your doll's dress and hung it on the stump to dry."
"Maybe!" agreed Helen, who was ready to believe anything, now that she had found something belonging to her doll.
"No gypsies live around here," said Flossie, "'cause we haven't seen any. But maybe they live in the cave."
"The cave's far off," said Freddie. "But it's funny about that dress."
"I—I found it when I hid in the stump," explained the little visiting girl. "First I thought it was a piece of paper, but as soon as I touchedit I knew it wasn't. Oh, now if I could only find Mollie!"
"Maybe she's in the stump, too," Freddie said. "If the gypsies washed her dress they'd have to cover her up with leaves or bark so she wouldn't get cold while her dress was drying."
"The gypsies didn't wash her dress," said Helen.
"How do you know?" asked Flossie.
"'Cause nobody washes dresses an' makes 'em all up in a heap an' puts 'em in a hollow stump," Helen went on. "You've got to hang a dress straight on a line to make it dry."
"That's so," added Flossie. "You only roll a dress up the way this one was rolled when you sprinkle it to iron, don't you, Helen?"
"Yep. Oh, I do wish I could find my Mollie!"
"Well, she must be somewhere around here if she isn't in the stump," insisted Freddie. "If the gypsies took off her dress they must have dropped the doll. Let's look!"
This was what the two little girls wanted to do, so with Freddie to help they began pokingabout with sticks in the leaves that were piled around the stump. They searched for some time, but could find no trace of the lost doll.
"We'd better go and tell my mamma and your mamma," said Flossie. "Maybe they'll get a policeman and he'll find the gypsies and your dollie, Helen."
"All right—come on!"
Out of breath, the children ran to the tents where Mrs. Porter was just thinking about going in search of her little girl, as it was nearly time for the steamboat to come back for them.
"Oh, I found Mollie's dress! I found Mollie's dress!" cried Helen, waving it over her head.
"It was in a stump!" added Freddie.
"And it was all wet from bein' rained on, I guess," said Flossie, for indeed the doll's dress was still damp, and very likely it had been out in the rain. That stump would hold water for some time, like a big, wooden pitcher.
Mrs. Porter was very much surprised to hear the news, and thought perhaps her little girl was mistaken. But when she had looked carefully at the dress, she knew it was one sheherself had made for Helen when that little girl was a baby.
"But how did it come on this island?" she asked.
"It must have been dropped by the gypsies," said Mr. Bobbsey. "In spite of what they said to us some one of them must have picked up the doll and carried her away for some little gypsy girl. And the gypsies must have been on this island. Some of the blueberry pickers said they saw them, but when I looked I could not find them. By that time they must have gone away."
"And did they take my doll with them?" asked Helen.
"Well, I'm afraid they did," said Mr. Bobbsey. "If they wanted your pet badly enough to take her away so boldly, as they did from the yard, they'd probably keep her, once they had her safe. It isn't every day they can get a talking doll, you know."
"I wish there was some way of getting Helen's doll back," said Mrs. Porter. "She does nothing but wish for her every day. She has other dolls——"
"But I liked Mollie best," Helen said. "I want her. If she only knew I had her dress she might come to me," she added wistfully.
"She might, if she were a fairy doll," said Mrs. Bobbsey, as she patted Helen on the head. "But we'll look as carefully as we can for your little girl's pet, Mrs. Porter. If Mollie is on this island we'll find her."
"And I'll leave this dress here," said Helen, "so you can put it on her when you do find her. Then she won't take cold."
"I'll wash the dress and have Dinah iron it for you," promised Flossie. "I can't iron very well."
"Thank you," said Helen. "Oh, I'm so glad I came here, for I found part of Mollie, anyhow."
Helen and her mother left Blueberry Island, promising to come again some day, and Flossie and Freddie said they would, in the meanwhile, look as well as they could for the lost doll.
THEY TOASTED THE SOFT CANDIES OVER THE BLAZETHEY TOASTED THE SOFT CANDIES OVER THE BLAZE
The Bobbsey Twins on Blueberry Island.Page 175
That night, in front of the tents, there was a marshmallow roast. The Bobbsey children, with long sticks, toasted the soft candies over the blaze, until the marshmallows puffed outlike balloons and were colored a pretty brown. Then they ate them.
Flossie and Freddie dropped about as many candies in the fire as they toasted, but Bert and Nan at last showed the small twins how to do it, and then Freddie toasted a marshmallow for his father and Flossie made one nice and brown for her mother.
"I dropped mine in the dirt, after I cooked it," said Freddie to his father, as he came running up with the hot candy, "but I guess you can eat it."
"I'll try," laughed Mr. Bobbsey, and he brushed off all the dirt he could, but had to chew the rest, for Freddie stood right in front of his father, to make sure the marshmallow was eaten.
"Is it good?" asked the little boy.
"Fine!" cried Mr. Bobbsey. "But I can't eat any more," he said quickly, "because I might get indigestion."
"Then I'll eat 'em," said Freddie. "I'm not afraid of id-idis-idisgestion."
It was jolly fun toasting candies at the campfire, but as everything must come to an endsome time, this did also, and the children went to bed and the camp was quiet, except that now and then Whisker gave a gentle "Baa-a-a-a!" from his resting place under a tree, and Snoop, the black cat, purred in his sleep.
The next day it rained, so the twins could not go to look for the doll, as they wanted to. They had to stay around the tents, though when the shower slackened they were allowed to go out with their rubber coats and boots on.
Toward night the sun came out, and they all went down to the dock to meet the steamboat, for Mr. Bobbsey had gone over to the mainland after dinner, to attend to some business at the lumber office, and was coming back on the last boat.
It was after supper that Dinah, coming into the dining tent to clear away the dishes, caused some excitement when she asked:
"Has any ob you all seen Snoop?"
"What? Is our cat gone?" asked Bert.
"Well, I hasn't seen 'im since Flossie an' Freddie was playin' hitch him up like a hoss to a cigar box wagon," went on Dinah. "He come out to me an' I gib 'im some milk, an'now, when I called 'im t' come an' git his supper, he ain't heah!"
Flossie and Freddie looked at each other. So did Nan and Bert. Even Mr. Bobbsey seemed surprised. But he said:
"Oh, I guess he just went off in the woods for a rest after Flossie and Freddie mauled him when they were playing with him. Go call him, Bert."
So Bert went out in front of the tent and called: "Snoop! Snoop! Hi, Snoop, where are you?"
But no Snoop answered. Then Flossie and Freddie called, and so did Nan, while Sam went farther into the woods among the trees. But the big black cat, that the children loved so dearly, was missing. Snoop did not come to his supper that night.
"Hark! Wasn't that Snoop?"
"Listen, everybody!"
Bert and Nan suddenly made these exclamations as they, with the rest of the Bobbsey family, were sitting in the main tent after supper. The lanterns had been lighted, the mosquito net drawn over the front door, or flap of the tent, to keep out the bugs, and the camping family was spending a quiet hour before going to bed.
Bert thought he heard, in the woods outside, a noise that sounded like that made by the missing cat Snoop, and Nan, also, thought she heard the same sound.
They all listened, Mr. Bobbsey looking up from his book, while Flossie and Freddie ceased their play. Mrs. Bobbsey stopped her sewing.
"There it is again!" exclaimed Nan, as from the darkness outside the tent there came a queer sound.
"What is it?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey. "It doesn't sound like Snoop."
"Maybe it's Snap!" exclaimed Freddie. "He used to howl like that."
"It did sound a bit like a dog's howl," admitted Bert. "May I go out and see what it is, Daddy?"
"I'll take a look," said Mr. Bobbsey. He stepped to the flap of the tent and listened. The queer sound came again, and he went outside, while Bert went near the tent opening to listen. He, as well as his father, then heard another noise—that made by some one walking across the ground, stepping on and breaking small sticks.
"Who's there?" suddenly called Mr. Bobbsey, exactly, as Bert said afterward, like a soldier sentinel on guard. "Who's there?"
"It's me—Sam," was the answer. "I done heard some queer noise, Mr. Bobbsey, an' Dinah said as how I'd better git up and see what it was."
"Oh, all right, Sam. We heard it too. Listen again."
Sam stood still, and Mr. Bobbsey remained quietly outside the big tent. Sam and his wife lived in a smaller tent not far away, and they usually went to bed early, so Sam had had to get up when the queer noise sounded.
Suddenly it came again, and this time Bert, who had stuck his head out between the flaps of the tent, called:
"There it is!"
"Who! Who! Who!" came the sound, and as Mr. Bobbsey heard it he gave a laugh.
"Nothing but an owl," he said. "I should have known it at first, only I couldn't hear well in the tent. You may go back to bed, Sam, it's only an owl."
"Only an owl, Mr. Bobbsey! Yas, I reckon as how it is; but I don't like t' heah it jest de same."
"You don't? Why not, Sam?"
"'Cause as how dey most always ginnerally bring bad luck. I don't like de sound ob dat owl's singin' no how!"
"He wasn't singing, Sam!" laughed Bert,after he had called to the rest of the family inside the tent and told them the cause of the noise.
"Ha! Am dat yo', Bert?" asked the colored man. "Well, maybe an owl don't sing like a canary bird, but dey makes a moanful soun', an' I don't like it. It means bad luck, dat's what it means! An' you all'd better git t' bed!"
"Oh, I'm not afraid, Sam. We thought it was Snoop mewing, or Snap howling, maybe. You didn't see anything of our lost dog, did you?"
"Not a smitch. An' I suah would like t' hab him back."
"Ask him if he or Dinah saw Snoop," called Flossie.
Bert asked the colored man this, but Sam had seen nothing of the pet cat either.
"Oh, dear!" sighed Freddie. "Both our pets gone—Snap and Snoop! I wish they'd come back."
"Maybe they will," said his mother kindly. "It's time for you to go to bed now, and maybe the morning will bring good news. Snap or Snoop may be back by that time."
"That's what we've been thinking about poor Snap for a long while," grumbled Nan.
"Well, I'm afraid Snapislost for good," said Mrs. Bobbsey. "He never stayed away so long before. But Snoop may be back in the morning. He may have just wandered off. It isn't the first time he has been away all night."
"Only once or twice," said Bert, who came back to the book he was reading. "And both times it was because he got shut by accident in places where he couldn't get out."
"Maybe that's what's happened this time," suggested Nan. "We ought to look around the island."
"We will—to-morrow," declared Bert.
"And look in the cave Flossie and I found," urged Freddie. "Maybe Snoop is there."
"We'll look," promised his brother.
When Flossie and Freddie were taken to their cots by their mother, Flossie, when she had finished her regular prayers, added:
"An' please don't let 'em take Whisker."
"What do you mean by that, Flossie?" asked her mother.
"I mean I was prayin' that they shouldn't take our goat," said the little girl.
"I want to pray that, too!" cried Freddie, who had hopped into bed. "Why didn't you tell me you were going to pray that, Flossie?"
"'Cause it just popped into my head. But you stay in bed, an' I'll pray it for you," and she added: "Please, Freddie says the same thing!"
Then she covered herself up and almost before Mrs. Bobbsey had left the sides of the cots both children were fast asleep.
"Poor little tykes!" said the mother softly. "They do miss their pets so! I hope the cat and dog can be found, and Helen's doll, too. It's strange that so many things are missing. I wonder who Flossie meant by 'they,' I must ask her."
And the next morning the little girl, when reminded of her petition the night before and asked who she thought might take the goat, said:
"They is the gypsies, of course! They take everything! Blueberry Tom said so. And I didn't want them to get Whisker too."
"Who in the world is Blueberry Tom?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
"He's the boy who was so hungry," explained Freddie. "He came to the island to pick early blueberries only there wasn't any."
"Oh, now I remember," Mrs. Bobbsey said with a laugh. "Well, I don't believe there are any gypsies on this island to take anything. Snoop must have just wandered off."
"Then we'll find him!" exclaimed Nan.
During the next few days a search was made for the missing black cat. The twins, sometimes riding in their goat wagon, and again going on foot, went over a good part of the island, calling for Snoop. But he did not answer. Sam, too, wandered about getting firewood, and also calling for the lost pet. Mr. Bobbsey made inquiries of the boatmen and the man who kept the soda-water stand, but none of them had seen the children's pet.
Bert printed, with a lead pencil, paper signs, offering a reward for any news of Snoop, and these were tacked up on trees about the island so the blueberry pickers might see them. But though many read them, none had seenSnoop, and, of course, Snap was missing before the Bobbseys came to camp, so, naturally, he would not be on the island.
But in spite of the missing Snap and Snoop, the Bobbsey twins had lots of fun in camp. During the day they played all sorts of games, went on long walks with their father and mother, or for trips on the lake. Sometimes they even rowed to other islands, not far from Blueberry Island, and there ate their lunch.
The fishing was good, and Freddie and Bert often brought home a nice mess for dinner or supper. Whisker, the big white goat, was a jolly pet. He was as gentle as a dog and never seemed to get tired of pulling the twins in the wagon, though the roads of the island were not as smooth as those in Lakeport.
But though the twins had fun, they never gave over thinking that, some day, they would find Snap and Snoop again.
"And maybe Helen's doll, too," said Flossie. "We'll hunt for her some more."
"But it's easier to hunt for Snoop," said Freddie, "'cause he can holler back when you holler at him."
"How can a cat holler?" asked his sister.
"Well, he can go 'miaou,' can't he?" Freddie asked, "an' ain't that hollerin'?"
"I—I guess so," Flossie answered. "Oh, Freddie, I know what let's do!" she cried suddenly.
"What? Make mud pies again? I'm tired of 'em. 'Sides, Momsie just put clean things on us."
"No, not make mud pies—I'm tired of that, too. Let's go off by ourselves and hunt Snoop. You know every time we've gone very far from camp we've had to go with Nan and Bert; and you know when you hunt cats you ought to be quiet, an' two can be more quiet than three or four."
"That's right," agreed Freddie, after thinking it over.
"Then let's just us two go," went on Flossie. "We won't get lost."
"Nope, course not," said Freddie. "I can go all over the island, and I won't let you be lost. Snoop knows us better than he does Nan and Bert anyhow, 'cause we play with him more."
"And if we find him," went on Flossie, "and he's too tired to walk home we'll carry him. I'll carry his head part an' you can carry his tail."
"No, I want to carry his head."
"I choosed his head first!" said Flossie, "The tail is nicest anyhow."
"Then why don't you carry that?"
"'Cause it's so flopsy. It never stays still, and when it flops in my face it tickles me. Please you carry the tail end, Freddie."
"All right, Flossie, I will. But we had better go now, or maybe Momsie or Nan or Bert or Dinah might come out and tell us not to go. Come on!"
So, hand in hand, now and then looking back to make sure no one saw them to order them back, Flossie and Freddie started out to search for the lost Snoop. They wandered here and there about the island, at first not very far from the camp. When they were near the tents they did not call the cat's name very loudly for fear of being heard.
"We can call him loud enough when we get farther away," said Freddie.
"Yep," agreed his sister. "Anyhow he isn't near the tents or he'd've come back before this."
So the two little twins wandered farther and farther away until they were well to the middle of the island, and out of sight of the white tents.
"Snoop! Snoop! Snoop!" they called, but though they heard many noises made by the birds, the squirrels and insects of the woods, there was no answering cry from their cat.
After a while they came to a place where a little brook flowed between green, mossy banks. It was a hot day and the children were warm and tired.
"Oh, I'm goin' in wading!" cried Freddie, sitting down and taking off his shoes and stockings.
"You hadn't better," said Flossie. "Mamma mightn't like it."
"I'll tell her how nice it was when I get home," said the little fellow, "and then she'll say it was all right. Come on, Flossie."
"No, I've got clean white stockin's on and I don't want to get 'em alldirty."
"Huh! They've got some dirt on 'em now."
"Well, they aren't wet and they'd get wet if I went in wading."
"Not if you took 'em off."
"Yes they would, 'cause I never can get my feet dry on the grass like you do. You go in wading, Freddie, and I'll sit here an' watch you."
So Freddie stepped into the cool water and shouted with glee. Then he waded out a little farther and soon a queer look came over his face. Flossie saw her brother sink down until the brook came up to the lower edge of his knickerbockers, wetting them, while Freddie cried:
"Oh, I'm caught! I'm caught. Flossie, help me! I'm caught!"
Flossie Bobbsey, who had been sitting on the cleanest and dryest log she could find near the edge of the stream to watch Freddie wade, jumped up as she heard him cry. She had been wishing she was with him, white stockings or none.
"Oh, Freddie, what's the matter?" she cried. "What's happened?"
"I—I'm caught!" he answered. "Can't you see I'm caught?"
"But how?" she questioned eagerly. "You aren't caught in a trap like Snap was, are you?"
"No, it isn't a trap—it's sticky mud," Freddie said. "My feet are stuck in the mud!"
"Oh—oh!" said Flossie, and a queer look came over her face. "You are stuck in the mud! How did you do it, Freddie?"
"I didn't do it! It did it! I just stepped ina soft place, and now when I pull one foot out the other sticks in deeper. Can't you help me out, Flossie?"
"Yes, I'll help you out!" she cried, and she ran down to the edge of the stream, as though she intended to wade out to where poor Freddie was trying to pull his feet loose from the sticky mud.
"Oh, don't come in! Don't come in!" cried Freddie, waving her back with his hand. "You'll be stuck, too!"
Flossie stood still on the edge of the little brook. She looked at Freddie, who was in the middle of the stream, too far out for Flossie to reach with her outstretched hands, though she tried to do so.
"Can't you pull your feet out?" she asked.
"Nope!" answered Freddie. "I can't, for I've tried. As soon as I get one foot up a little way the other goes down in deeper."
"Then I'll go and call mamma!"
"No, don't do that!" begged Freddie. "Maybe if you would get a long stick, Flossie, and hold it out to me, I could sort of pull myself out."
"Oh, I know. It's like the picture in my story book of the boy who fell through the ice, and his sister held out a long pole to him and he pulled himself out. Wait a minute, Freddie, and I'll get the stick. I'm glad you didn't fall through the ice, though, 'cause you'd get cold maybe."
"This water is nice and warm," said Freddie. "But I don't like the mud I'm stuck in, 'cause it makes me feel so tickly between the toes."
"I'll help you out," said Flossie. "Wait a minute."
She searched about on the bank until she found a long smooth branch of a tree. Holding to one end of this she held the other end out to her brother. Freddie had to turn half around to get hold of it as his back was toward Flossie, and she could not cross the brook.
"Now hold tight!" cried the little boy. "I'm going to pull!"
Flossie braced her feet in the sand on the bank of the brook and her brother began to pull himself out of the mud. His feet had sunk down to quite a depth, and when he first pulledhe made Flossie slide along the ground until she cried:
"Oh, Freddie, you're going to make me stuck, too! Don't pull me into the water!"
Freddie stopped just in time, with the toes of Flossie's shoes almost in the water.
"Did you pull loose a little bit?" she asked.
"Yes, a little. But I don't want to pull you in, Flossie. If you could only hold on to a tree or a rock, then I wouldn't drag you along."
"Maybe I can hold to this tree," and Flossie pointed to one near by. "If I can stretch my arms I can reach it."
"Look for a longer tree branch to hold out to me," said Freddie, and when his sister had found this she could reach one end to her brother, keep the other end in her right hand, and with her left arm hold on to a small tree. The tree braced Flossie against being pulled along the bank, and when next Freddie tried, he dragged his feet and legs safely from the sticky mud, and could wade out on the hard, gravelly bottom of the brook.
"I guess that was a mud hole where some fish used to live," said the little fellow, as hecame ashore, a little bit frightened by what had happened.
"Your feet are all muddy," said Flossie, "and you are all wet around your knees."
"Oh, that'll dry," said Freddie. "And I can wash the mud off my feet. It was awful sticky."
It certainly seemed to be, for it took quite a while to wash it off his bare feet and legs, though he stood for some time in the brook, where there was a white, pebbly bottom, and used bunches of moss for a bath sponge.
But at last Freddie's legs were clean, though they were quite red from having been rubbed so hard with the moss-sponge. Flossie, too, having helped her brother scrub himself, had gotten some water on her shoes and stockings, and a little mud, too.
"But we can walk through places where the grass is high," said Freddie, "and that will brush the mud off, and the sun will dry your stockin's same as it will my pants."
"And we'll keep on calling for Snoop," said Flossie.
Freddie having put on his stockings andshoes, the two children set out again, wandering here and there, calling for the black cat. But either he did not hear them or he would not answer, and when, after an hour or two, they got back to camp, they had not found their pet.
"Where have you two been?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey. "I was just getting anxious about you."
"We've been looking for Snoop," said Flossie.
"And I went in wadin' an' got stuck in the mud, and my pants got a little wet, and Flossie's shoes and stockin's got wet an' muddy, but we waded in tall grass and we're not very muddy now," said Freddie, all out of breath, but anxious to get the worst over with at once.
"Oh, you shouldn't have gone in wading!" cried Mrs. Bobbsey.
"You didn't tell me not to—not to-day you didn't tell me," Freddie defended himself.
"No, because I didn't think you'd do such a thing," replied his mother. "I can't tell you every day the different things you mustn't do—there are too many of them."
"But there are so many things we can do too—oh, just lots of them."
"Yes, and the things we may do and the things we're not to do are just awful hard to tell apart sometimes, Momsie," put in Flossie.
"Yes'm, they are," added Freddie. "And how is a feller and his sister to know every single time what they're to do and what they're not to do?"
"Suppose you try stopping before you do a thing to ask yourselves whether you ought to do it or not, and not wait until after the thing is done to ask yourselves that question," suggested Mrs. Bobbsey. "That might help some."
"Well, I won't go wading any more to-day," promised the little fellow. "But I didn't think I'd get stuck in the mud."
Mrs. Bobbsey wanted to laugh, but she did not dare let the two small twins see her, for they would think it only fun, and really they ought not to have gotten wet and muddy.
"And so you couldn't find Snoop," remarked Mr. Bobbsey at supper that night. "Well, it's too bad. I guess I'll have to get you another dog and cat."
"No, don't—just yet, please," said Nan. "Maybe we'll find our own, and we never could love any new ones as we love Snap and Snoop."
"Nope, we couldn't!" declared Flossie, while Freddie nodded his head in agreement with her.
"But you could get us some new go-around bugs," the little girl went on. "We haven't found ours yet."
"That's so," remarked Mr. Bobbsey. "It's queer where they went to. Well, I'll see if I can get any more, though I may have to send to New York. But you two little ones must not go off by yourselves again, looking for Snoop."
"Could we go to look for Snap?" asked Freddie, as if that was different.
"No, not for Snap either. You must stay around camp unless some one goes with you to the woods."
It was a few days after this, when Mrs. Bobbsey, with the four twins, went out to pick blueberries, that they met a number of women and children who also had baskets and pails. But none of them was filled with the fruit which, now, was at its best.
"What is the matter with the berries?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey. "We have been able to pick only a few. The bushes seem to have been cleaned of all the ripe ones."
"That's what they have," said Blueberry Tom, who was with the other pickers. "And it's the gypsies who's gettin' the berries, too."
"Are you sure?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey. "We haven't seen any gypsies on the island."
"They don't stay here all the while," said Tom. "They have their camp over on the main shore, and they row here and get the berries when they're ripest. That's why there ain't any for us—the gypsies get 'em before we have a chance. They're pickin' blueberries as soon as it's light enough to see."
"Well, I suppose they have as much right to them as we have," said Mrs. Bobbsey. "But I would like to get enough for some pies."
"I can show you where there are more than there are around here," offered Tom. "It's a little far to walk, though."
"Well, we're not tired, for we just came out," said Mrs. Bobbsey. "So if you'll take us there, Tom, we'll be very thankful."
"Come on," said the boy, whose face was once more covered with blue stains. "I'll show you."
The other berry pickers, who did not believe Tom knew of a better place, said they would stay where they were, and, perhaps, by hard work they might fill their pails or baskets, and so Tom and the Bobbseys went off by themselves.
Tom, indeed, seemed to know where, on the island, was one spot where grew the largest and sweetest blueberries, and the gypsies, if the members of the tribe did come to gather the fruit, seemed to have passed by this place.
"Oh, what lots of them!" cried Bert, as he saw the laden bushes.
"Yes, there's more than I thought," said Tom. "I'll get my basket full here all right."
Soon all were picking, though Flossie and Freddie may have put into their mouths as many as went in their two baskets. But their mother did not expect them to gather much fruit.
They had picked enough for several pies, and Mrs. Bobbsey was looking about for the twosmaller twins who had wandered off a little way, when she heard Flossie scream.
"What is it?" asked her mother quickly. "Is it a snake?" and she started to run toward her little girl.
"Maybe she's stuck in the mud, as Freddie was!" exclaimed Bert.
"Mamma! Mamma!" cried Flossie. "Come and get me!"
"She—she's all tangled up in a net!" cried the voice of Freddie. "Oh, come here!"
Mrs. Bobbsey, Nan, Bert and Tom ran toward the sound of the children's voices.
Again Flossie cried:
"I'm all tangled! I'm all tangled up! Come and help me get out!"
"What in the world can she mean?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
"I'm sure I don't know," answered Bert.
"What did Freddie say about a net?" asked Nan, as she stumbled and spilled her blueberries. She was going to stop to pick them up.
"Never mind them," her mother said. "Let them go. We must see what the matter is with Flossie."
They saw a few seconds later, as they turned on the path. On top of a little hill, in a place where there was a grassy spot with bushes growing all around it, they saw Flossie and Freddie.
Freddie was dancing around very much excited, but Flossie was standing still, and they soon saw the reason for this. She was entangled in a net that was spread out on the ground and partly raised up on the bushes. It was like a fish net which the children had often seen the men or boys use in Lake Metoka, but the meshes, or holes in it, were smaller, so that only a very little fish could have slipped through. And the cord from which the net was woven was not as heavy as that of the fish nets.
"Flossie's caught! Flossie's caught!" cried Freddie, still dancing about.
"Come and get me loose! Come and get me loose!" Flossie begged.
"Mother's coming! Mother's coming!" answered Mrs. Bobbsey. "But how in the world did it happen?"
She did not wait for an answer, but, as soon as she came near, she started to rush right into the net herself to lift out her little girl. But Bert, seeing what would happen, cried:
"Look out, Mother! You'll get tangled up, too. See! the net is caught on Flossie's shoesand around her legs and arms. She must have fallen right into it."
"She did," said Freddie. "We were walking along, picking berries, and all of a sudden Flossie was tangled in the net. I tried to get her out, but I got tangled, too, only I took my knife and cut some of the cords."
"And that's what we've got to do," said Mrs. Bobbsey. "The net is so entangled around Flossie that we'll never get her out otherwise. Have you a knife, Bert?"
"Yes, Mother. Stand still, Flossie!" he called to his little sister. "The more you move the worse you get tangled."
With his mother's help Bert soon cut away enough of the meshes of the queer net so that Flossie could get loose. She was not hurt—not even scratched—but she was frightened and she had been crying.
"There you are!" cried Mother Bobbsey, hugging her little girl in her arms. "Not a bit hurt, my little fat fairy! But how in the world did you get in the net, and what is it doing up on top of this hill in the midst of a blueberry patch?"
"I—I just stumbled into it," said Flossie, "same as Freddie got stuck in the mud, only I didn't wade in the water."
"No, there isn't any water around here," returned Nan. "I can't see what a net is doing here. I thought they only used them to catch fish."
"Maybe they put it up here to dry, as the fishermen at the seashore dry their nets," said Mrs. Bobbsey.
"No," announced Tom, who had been looking at the net, "this ain't for fishes."
"What is it for then?" asked Bert.
"It's for snarin' birds. I've seen 'em before. Men spread the nets out on the grass, and over bushes near where the birds come to feed, and when they try to fly they get caught and tangled in the meshes. I guess this net ain't been here very long, for there ain't any birds caught in it."
"But who put it here?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey. "I think it's a shame to catch the poor birds that way. Who did it?"
Tom looked carefully around before he answered. Then he said:
"I think it was the gypsies."
"The gypsies!" cried Bert.
"Yes. They're a shiftless lot. They don't work and they take what don't belong to 'em. They're too lazy to hunt with a gun, so they snare birds in a net. Why, they'll even eat sparrows—make a pie of 'em my mother says. And when they get robins and blackbirds they're so much bigger they can broil 'em over their fires. This is a bird-net, that's what it is."
"I believe you're right," said Mrs. Bobbsey, when she had looked more closely at it. "It isn't the kind they use in fishing. But do you really think the gypsies put it here, Tom?"
"Yes'm, I really do. They put 'em here other years, though I never seen one before. You see the gypsies sometimes camp here and sometimes on the mainland. All they have to do is to spread their net, and go away. When they come back next day there's generally a lot of birds caught in it and they take 'em out and eat 'em."
"Well, they caught a queer kind of bird this time," said Bert, with a smile at his little sister. "And it didn't do their net any good," he added, as he looked at the cut meshes.
"I'm sorry to have destroyed the property of any one else," said Mrs. Bobbsey, "but we had to get Flossie loose. And I don't believe those gypsies have any right to spread a net for birds."
"My mother says they haven't," replied Tom. "It's agin the law."
"Let's take the net away," suggested Bert.
"No, we haven't any right to do that," said his mother, "but we can tell the man who has to enforce the laws against hunting birds. I'll speak to your father about it. Are you all right now, Flossie?"
"Yes, Momsie. But it scared me when I was in the net."
"I should think so!" exclaimed Nan, petting her sister. "Did you just stumble into it?"
"Yep. I was walkin' along, and I saw a bush with a lovely lot of blueberries on it. I ran to it and then my foot tripped on a stone and I fell into the net. First I didn't know what it was, and when I tried to get up I was all tangled. Then I hollered."
"And I helped her holler," said Freddie.
"Indeed, you did, dear. You were a good little boy to stay by Flossie. But you're both all right now, and next time you come berrying stay closer by mother."
"You've got lots of berries," said Flossie, looking at Bert's basket.
"Yes. Tom showed us this good place. And now I guess we'd better go," said Bert. "Maybe those gypsies might come to look in their net."
He glanced around as he spoke, but though it was lonely on this part of Blueberry Island there were no signs of the dark-skinned men with rings in their ears who had set the bird net.
Dinah made enough blueberry pie to satisfy even the four twins, and when Mr. Bobbsey heard about the net he told an officer, who took it away. Whether or not the gypsies found out what had happened to their snare, as the net is sometimes called, the Bobbseys did not hear, nor did they see any of the wandering tribe, at least for a while.
Jolly camping days followed, though nowand then it rained, which did not make it so nice. But, take it all in all, the Bobbseys had a fine time on Blueberry Island. Mr. Bobbsey got Flossie and Freddie some new "go-around" bugs, and the small twins had lots of fun with them. The old ones they did not find.
Snoop was not found either, though many blueberry pickers, as well as the Bobbseys themselves, looked for the missing black cat. Nor was Snap located, though an advertisement was put in the papers and a reward offered for him. But Whisker did not go away, nor did any one try to take him, and he gave the twins many a fine ride.
"And I'm glad the gypsies didn't get Whisker," observed Flossie. "I like him. Maybe not so much as I like Snap and Snoop, but awfully well I like him."
"Yes, he's a nice goat. Nicer'n Mike's goat that we 'most bought, but didn't. I'm glad now that we didn't get Mike's goat, aren't you, Flossie?"
"Yes, I am."
The Bobbseys had been camping on the island about a month, when one day Mrs. Bobbsey went over to Lakeport to do some shopping, taking Nan and Bert with her, and leaving Flossie and Freddie in charge of their father. Of course Dinah and Sam stayed on the island also.
But you can easily imagine what happened. After Mr. Bobbsey had played a number of games with the small twins he sat down in a shady place to rest and read a book, thinking Flossie and Freddie would be all right playing near the big tent.
The two little ones were making a sand city. They made a square wall of sand, and inside this they built sand houses, railroads, a tunnel and many other things, until Freddie suddenly said:
"Oh, if we only had some of the clam shells that are down by the lake we could make a lot more things."
"So we could!" cried Flossie. "Let's go and get some!"
So, never thinking to ask their father, who was still reading, away rushed the two twins, after "clam" shells. They were not really shells of clams, but of fresh water mussels, but theywere almost like the shells of the soft clams one sees at the beach. The mussels are brought up on shore by muskrats who eat the inside meat and leave the empty shells. The small twins often used the shells in their play and games.
The place where the mussel shells were usually to be found was not far from the tents, but like most children in going to one place Flossie and Freddie took the longest way. They were in no hurry, the sun was shining brightly, and it was such fun to wander along over the island. So, before they knew it, they were a long distance from "home," as they called Twin Camp.
"Maybe we oughtn't to've come," said Flossie, as she stopped to pick some blueberries.
"We're not so far," said Freddie. "I know my way back. Oh, Flossie! look at that butterfly!" he suddenly called, making a grab for the fluttering creature. The butterfly flew on a little way and Freddie raced after it, followed by Flossie.
"Now I'm goin' to get it!" the little boy cried. With his hat he made a swoop for thebutterfly, and then suddenly he and Flossie, who was close behind him, tumbled down through a hole in the ground, which seemed quickly to open at their very feet, between two clumps of bushes.
"Oh!" cried Freddie, as he felt himself falling down.
"Oh, dear!" echoed Flossie.
Then they found themselves in great darkness.
Freddie Bobbsey sat down with a thump. Flossie Bobbsey sat down with a bump. This was after they had fallen down the queer hole. And yet it had not been so much of a fall as it was a slide.
Both of them being fat and plump—much fatter and plumper since they had come to Twin Camp than before—the thump and the bump did not hurt them very much.
They had slid down into the hole on a sort of hill of sand, and if you have ever slid down a sandy hillside you know the stopping part doesn't hurt very much. And, after all, the part of a fall that hurts, as the Irishman said, is not really the falling, it's the stopping so suddenly that causes the pain.
"Freddie! Freddie!" called Flossie, a few seconds after she and her little brother hadfallen down the hole. "Freddie, are you there?"
"Yep, I'm here, Flossie," was Freddie's answer, "only I dunno 'xactly where it is. I can't see."
"Nor me neither. But are you been hurted, Freddie?"
"No, are you?"
The children were forgetting all about the right way to use words, which their mother had so often told them, but as they were excited, and a little frightened, perhaps we must excuse them this time.
"I—I just sort of—of bumped myself, Flossie," said Freddie. "Are you all right? And where are you?"
"I'm right here," replied the little girl, "but I can't see you. I—I——It's awful dark, Freddie!"
"I can see a little light now," Freddie went on. "Let's get up and see if we can crawl back. My legs are all right."
"So's mine, Freddie. I guess I can——" and then Flossie suddenly stopped and gave a scream.
"What's the matter?" asked Freddie, and the little boy's voice was not quite steady.
"I—I touched something!" gasped his sister. "It was something soft and fuzzy."
"Oh, was that you?" asked Freddie, and his voice did not sound so frightened now. "Well, that was my head you touched. I—I thought maybe it was something—something after me. I didn't know you were so close to me, Flossie."
"I didn't either. But I'm glad I touched you. Where's your hand. I'm sort of stuck in this sand and I can't get up."
By this time the eyes of both the children had become more used to the darkness of the place into which they had fallen, and they could dimly see one another. Freddie scrambled to his feet, shaking from his waist and trousers the sand that had partly filled them when he had slid down the incline, and gave his hand to Flossie. She had about as much sand inside her clothes as he had, and she shook this out. Both children then turned and looked up at the slide down which they had so suddenly fallen.
Up at the top—and very far up it seemed to them—they could see, at the end of the sandyslide where they had started to slip, a hole through which they had fallen. It was between two big stones, and had a large bush on either side. It had been covered with grass and bushes so that the small twins had not seen it until they stepped right into it. Then the grass and bushes had given way, letting the children down.
"We—we've got to get back up there—somehow," said Freddie with a doleful sigh, as he looked at the place down which he and his sister had tumbled.
"Yes, I would like to get up out of here," said Flossie, "but how can we, Freddie?"
"Climb up, same as we falled down. Come on."
Taking his sister by the hand, Freddie started to climb up the hill of sand. But he and Flossie soon found that though it was easy enough to slide down, it was not so easy to climb back. The sand slipped from under their feet, and even though they tried to go up on their hands and knees it was not to be done.
"Oh, dear!" cried Flossie after a while, "I wish we were Jack and Jill."
"Why?" asked Freddie.
"'Cause they went up a hill, an' we can't."
"Maybe we can if we try again," said Freddie. "Anyhow, I don't want to be Jack, and fall down and break my crown."
"You haven't any crown," said Flossie. "Only kings an'—an' fairies have crowns."
"Well, it says in the book that Jack has a crown; an' if I was Jack I'd have one too. Only I'm not and I'm glad!"
"Well, I wish I was Jill, so I could have some of that pail of water," sighed Flossie. "I'm firsty," and she laughed as she used the word she used to say when she was a baby.
"So'm I," said Freddie. "Let's try to get up to the top, an' then we can get a drink, maybe. Only I'd rather be Ali Baba than Jack, then I could say, 'Open Sesame,' and the door to the cave would open of itself, and we could walk out and carry diamonds and gold with us."
"I'd rather have bread and butter than gold. I'm hungry. And I'd most rather have a drink," sighed the little girl. "Come on, Freddie, let's try to get up that hill. But it's awful hard work."
"Yes, it's hard," agreed Freddie; "but we've done lots harder things than that." You see, Freddie was trying to keep up his little sister's courage.
Once more the two little twins tried to climb the hill of shifting sand, but they could get up only a little way before slipping back. They did not get hurt—the sand was too soft and slippery for that, but they were tired and hot, and, oh! so thirsty.
"I'm not goin' to climb any more!" finally said Flossie. "I'm tired! I'm goin' to stay here until mamma or papa or Nan or Bert comes for us."
"Maybe they won't come," Freddie said.
"Yes, they will," declared Flossie, shaking her head. "They allers comes when we're lost and we're losted now."
"Yes, I guess so," agreed Freddie. "I wonder where we are anyhow, Flossie?"
"Why, in a big hole," she said. "Oh, Freddie!" she suddenly cried, "maybe we can get out the other way if we can't climb up."
"Which other way?" asked her brother.
"Out there," and in the light that came downthe hole through which the twins had fallen Freddie could see his sister pointing to what seemed another dim light, far away at the end of the big hole. For Flossie and Freddie had fallen into a big hole—there was no doubt of that. Though it was pretty dark all about them, there was enough light for them to see that they were in a cavern.
"Maybe it's a cave, like the one we went into from the lake when we found the boat," said Flossie, after thinking it over a bit, "and if we can't get out one end we can the other."
"Maybe!" cried Freddie eagerly. "Anyway, we can't get up that hill of sand," and he pointed to the one down which they had slid. "Come on, we'll walk toward the other light."
Far away, through what seemed a long lane of blackness, there was a dim light, like some big star, and toward this, hoping it would lead to a hole through which they could get out, the children walked.
As they neared it the light grew brighter, and they were beginning to feel that their troubles were over when suddenly they both came to a stop.
For, at the same time, they had heard a queer noise. It came from the darkness just ahead of them and was such a funny sound that Flossie put both her arms around Freddie, not so much to take care of him as that she wanted him to take care of her.
"Did—did you hear that?" she whispered.
Freddie nodded his head, and then, remembering that Flossie could not very well see his motions in the darkness he said:
"Yes, I heard it. I wonder——"
"Hark!" whispered Flossie. "There it goes again!"