"Freddie, you mustn't go in there," called his mother. "Come out. Don't
touch that big pumpkin."

But it was too late! Freddie was already on the wooden platform, and he
was rolling the pumpkin. It was almost perfectly round, and the little
fellow could easily move it.

"Come away!" called Mr. Bobbsey, adding his voice to that of his wife.

"I want to see if I can lift this pumpkin!" exclaimed Freddie.

And then, suddenly, the big pumpkin rolled off the platform, toward the
back of the tent.

"Get it, Freddie! Get it!" cried Bert, for he knew the pumpkin was on
exhibition in order to take a prize, if possible. It would be too bad if
anything happened to it.

Freddie made a dive for the big, yellow vegetable, but, as it happened,
the tent stood on the top of a hill. And as the pumpkin rolled off the
platform it slipped under the tent and began going down the grassy hill
outside.

"Whoa! Whoa!" called Freddie, as he had called to the race horse that
had walked out on the track with him. "Whoa, pumpkin!"

But the pumpkin kept on rolling! The little chap made a dive for it,
missed it by a few inches, and then, falling over, he, too, rolled out
under the tent and down the hill.