"So he is, little Fat Fireman," said Nan, "Come and sit with me, and we
can see the men catch the monkeys."

The work of getting the escaped animals back into their cages was going
on rapidly. Some of the passengers went out to watch, but the Bobbseys
stayed in their seats, Mr. Bobbsey thinking this best. The catching of
the monkeys was the hardest work, but soon even this was accomplished.

The wait seemed very tiresome when there was nothing more to watch, and
Mr. Bobbsey looked about for some railroad man of whom he could inquire
how much longer delay there would be. The conductor came through the
car.

"When will we start?" asked Mr. Bobbsey.

"Not for some time, I'm afraid," spoke the tickettaker. "The wreck is a
worse one than I thought at first, and some of the cars of the circus
train are across the track so we can't get by. We may be here two hours
yet."

"That's too bad. Where are we?"

"Just outside of Whitewood."

"Oh, that's near home!" exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey. "Why can't we get out,
Richard, walk across the fields to the trolley line, and take that home?
It won't be far, and we'll be there ever so much quicker."

"Well, we could do that, I suppose," said her husband, slowly.