"Nonsense, Dinah!" said Mr. Bobbsey. "I can manage, and your arms
are full."

"I--I wish she had Snoop," said Freddie, but he was so interested
in watching the queer dog that he half forgot his sorrow over the
lost cat.

The dog seemed to have made great friends with Flossie. She was
patting him on the head now, for the animal, after marching about
on his hind legs, was down on all fours again.

"Oh, mamma, he's awful nice!" exclaimed Flossie. "He's just as
gentle, and he's soft, like the little toy lamb I used to have."

"Indeed he does seem to be a gentle dog," said Mrs. Bobbsey."
But come along now. Don't pet him any more, or he may follow us,
Flossie, and whoever owns him would not like it. Come on."

"Forward--march!" called Freddie, strutting along the moonlit path
as much like a soldier as he could imitate, tired as he was.

The Bobbseys and their faithful Dinah started off again toward the
distant trolley that would take them to their home. The dog sat
down and looked after them.

"I--I wish he was ours," said Flossie wistfully, waving her hand
to the dog.

The Bobbseys had not gone on very far before Nan, looking back,
called out: