Instantly the dog stood up on his hind legs and began marching about in a circle on the path.

"Oh, what a queer dog!" cried Flossie. "Oh I wish he was ours!"

CHAPTER IV

HOME IN AN AUTO

Down on his four legs dropped the big white dog, and with another wag of his fluffy tail he came straight for Flossie.

"Be careful!" warned Mamma Bobbsey.

"He won't hurt her!" declared Bert. "That's a good dog, anyone can tell that. Here, doggie; come here!" he called.

But the dog still advanced toward Flossie, who shrank back a bit timidly.

"You never can tell what dogs will do," said Mrs. Bobbsey. "It is best to be careful."

"I guess he knew what Flossie said to him," spoke up Freddie. "He knows we like dogs."

The dog barked a little, and, coming up to where Flossie was, again stood on his hind legs.

"That's a queer trick," said Mr. Bobbsey. "I guess this dog has been trained. He probably belongs around here."

"I wish he belonged to us," sighed Nan. Like Flossie and Freddie she, too, loved animals.

"Maybe we can keep him if we don't find Snoop," suggested Freddie.

"Oh, papa, will you get Snoop back?" and Freddie's voice sounded as though he was going to cry.

"Yes, yes, of course I will," said Mr. Bobbsey quickly. He did not want the children to fret now, with still quite a distance yet to go home, and that in a trolley car. There were bundles to carry, weary children to look after, and Mrs. Bobbsey was rather tired also. No wonder Papa Bobbsey thought he had many things to do that night.

"Come along, children," called Mrs. Bobbsey, "it is getting late, and we are only about half way to the trolley. Oh dear! if that circus had to be wrecked I wish it could have waited until our train pa.s.sed."

"Are you very tired?" asked her husband. "I can take that valise."

"Indeed you'll not. You have enough."

"Lemme hab it, Ma.s.sa Bobbsey," pleaded Dinah. "I ain't carryin'

half enough. I's pow'ful strong, I is."

"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:

"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, and calmly waited. Mr. Bobbsey walked toward him.

"Oh, don't--don't whip him, papa!" exclaimed Flossie.

"I don't intend to," said Mr. Bobbsey. "But I must be stern with him or he will think I'm only playing. Go back!" he cried.

The dog stretched out on the path, his head down between his fore paws.

"He--he looks--sad," said Freddie. "Maybe he hasn't any home, papa."

"Oh, of course a valuable dog like that has a home," declared Bert.

"But maybe they didn't treat him kindly, and he is looking for a new one," suggested Nan, hopefully.

"He doesn't seem ill-treated," spoke Mrs. Bobbsey. "Oh, I do wish he'd go back, so we could go on."

Mr. Bobbsey pretended to pick up a stone and throw it at the dog, as masters sometimes do when they do not want their dogs to follow them. This dog only wagged his tail, as though he thought it the best joke he had ever known.

"Go back! Go back, I say!" cried Papa Bobbsey in a loud voice. The dog did not move.