"Oh, papa, that dog is following us!"

"He is?" exclaimed Mr. Bobbsey. "That's queer. He must have taken
a sudden liking to us. But I guess he'll go back where he belongs
pretty soon. Are you getting tired, little Fat Fireman? And you,
my Fat Fairy?"

"Oh, no, papa," laughed Flossie. "I sat down so much in the train
that I'm glad to stand up now."

"So am I," said Freddie, who made up his mind that he would not
say he was tired if his little sister did not. And yet, truth to
tell, the little Fat Fireman was very weary.

On and on went the Bobbsey family, and soon Bert happened to look
back, and gave a whistle of surprise.

"That dog isn't going home, papa," he said. "He's still after us,
and look! now he's running."

They all glanced back on hearing this. Surely enough the big white
dog was running after them, wagging his tail joyfully, and barking
from time to time.

"This will never do!" exclaimed Mr. Bobbsey. "Whoever owns him
may think we are trying to take him away. I'll drive him back. Go
home! Go back, sir!" exclaimed Papa Bobbsey in stern tones.

The dog stopped wagging his tail. Then he sat down on the path,