Bert's, an' de hoss team was comin' right down on de honey-lamb. I
thought shuah he was gwine t' be squashed flatter'n a pancake. But he
ain't! Bless mah soul he ain't! Oh, dere's mah cake burnin'!" and into
the kitchen ran Dinah, glad, indeed, that nothing had happened worse
than the scare Freddie received.

"Good Snap! Good old dog!" said Nan, as she patted his head.

"Bow wow!" barked Snap. He still held the horse reins in his strong
white teeth. He was not going to let the horses go yet.

"Oh, Freddie!" cried Mrs. Bobbsey, when she understood what had
happened. "What danger you were in! Why did you take Bert's wheel?"

"I--I wanted a ride, Mamma. I didn't think I'd fall off, or that the
team would come."

"You must never do it again," said Mrs. Bobbsey. "Never get on Bert's
wheel again, unless he is with you to hold you. You are, too small,
yet, for a bicycle."

"Yes'm," said Freddie in a low voice.

"But where is the driver of the wagon?" went on Mrs. Bobbsey, looking
at the empty seat.

"Maybe he fell off," suggested Nan, who had taken Freddie from Bert,
the latter picking up his wheel, and looking to see if it had been
damaged by the fall. But it was all right.