"Oh, I--I didn't know anybody was here," he stammered.

"That's all right," said Mr. Bobbsey. "If there's anything we can do to
help you---- Where's Mr. Blipper, by the way? There is something I
should like to ask him. Or perhaps you can tell me."

"Not now, Dick, not now," said Mrs. Bobbsey in a whisper, with a shake
of her head at her husband. She knew what he wanted to ask--about his
coat and the robe. "Not now; he is too miserable," she went on.

"Has anything happened?" asked Mr. Bobbsey, changing his first line of
questions.

"Ye--yes," stammered Bob, not sobbing so hard now. "I--I've run away
from Mr. Blipper!"

"You've run away!" echoed Nan.

Bob nodded his head vigorously to show that he meant "yes," and he went
on:

"He treated me mean! There was a lot of hard work setting up the
merry-go-round at the Bolton Fair, and I had more than my share. He
wouldn't give me any money--he hardly gave me enough to eat. And I ran
away. I'm not done running yet, only I'm so hungry I can't go very fast
any more."

"You poor boy!" murmured Mrs. Bobbsey. "Is that why you cried--because
you were hungry?"