the trolley car. I'll ask the motorman to go slow, papa."

"My! This has been a mixedup 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 where 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 to
suit the fine animal. He had found friends, now, he evidently thought.
Mr. Bobbsey wondered why so valuable a dog would leave its home. And he
was very much puzzled as to what he should do if the children insisted
on keeping the animal, and if it came aboard the trolley car.

"There's the car!" exclaimed Bert, as they went around another turn in
the path and came to a road. Down it could be seen the headlight of an
approaching trolley, and also the twin lamps of an oncoming automobile.

"Look out for the auto, children!" cried Mrs. Bobbsey.

They stood at the side of the road, and as the auto came up the man in
it slowed down his machine. It was a big car and he was alone in it.

"Well, I declare!" exclaimed the autoist, as his engine stopped. "If it
isn't the Bobbsey family - twins and all! What are you doing here, Mr.