"Maybe he would--if he was a kind man," suggested Freddie. "We
could tell him how it was, and how we lost our cat--"

"And our silver cup," added Flossie.

"Well, certainly the dog doesn't seem to want to go home," said
Mr. Bobbsey, after he had tried two or three times more to drive
the animal back. But it would not go.

"Go on a little farther," suggested Mrs. Bobbsey. "By the time we
get to the trolley he may get tired, and go back. And if we want
to lose him I think we can, by getting on the car quickly."

"But we don't want to lose him!" cried Freddie.

"No, no!" said Flossie. "We want to keep him. He can run along
behind the trolley car. I'll ask the motorman to go slow, papa."

"My! This has been a mixed-up day!" sighed Mr. Bobbsey. "I really
don't know what to do."

The dog seemed to think that he was one of the family, now. He
came up to Flossie and Freddie and let them pat him. His tail kept
wagging all the while.

"Well, we'll see what happens when we get to the trolley," decided
Mr. Bobbsey, thinking that there would be the best and only place
to get rid of the dog. "Come along, children."

Freddie and Flossie came on, the dog between them, and this seemed