Bobbsey. "Some of the drivers of the merry-go-round trucks looked like
tramps, but they didn't get off their seats, did they?"

"Not that I noticed," her husband answered. "Well, there's no use
looking farther. My coat is gone--stolen I'm afraid. This old one is
left in its place. I haven't any use for this," and he kicked it to one
side. "Never mind. It isn't cold. I can ride home without a coat."

"There's a lap robe in the auto," Mrs. Bobbsey said. "You can wrap that
about you if you get chilly on the way home."

"Yes," agreed Mr. Bobbsey, "I can do that. Trot along, Bobbsey twins.
Get into your picnic truck, and we'll see who gets home first."

"Like Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf," laughed Flossie.

While Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey walked over to where Mr. Bobbsey had left the
runabout auto in which he and his wife had come to the picnic grounds,
Bert, Nan, and the other children took their places in the big truck.

"Merrily we roll along--roll along--roll along!"

Some one started that song as the trucks rumbled out of the picnic
grove. On account of the broken bridge a different road home had to be
taken; a longer one. Having a lighter car than the trucks, Mr. Bobbsey
and his wife could go faster than the loads of merry-makers, and the
twins waved good-by to their parents, who were soon lost to sight.

"I guess they'll get home first," said Nan to Bert.