"Can't you roll along to her on your wheels?" asked the dog. "I haven't time now to carry you back."

"Not very well," the Lamb answered. "It is very rough going in this lot, full of weeds and stones. I can easily roll myself along on a smooth floor, in the toy shop or at Mirabell's home. But it is too hard here."

"Ill leave you here now," barked the dog, "and when it gets dark I'll come and get you. I'll carry you back to the porch of the house, from in front of which I carried you off. Then you can roll in and get back to Mirabell, as you call her. Shall I do that?"

"Well, I suppose that would be a good plan," the Lamb said. "I don't exactly like being carried in your teeth, but there is no help for it."

"Then I'll do that," promised the dog. "I'll come back here and get you after dark. You'll be all right here in the tall weeds."

"I suppose so," replied the Lamb. "Though I shall be lonesome."

"Please forgive me for causing you all this trouble," went on the dog.

"I never would have done it if I had known you were a toy. And now I'll run along and come back to-night. I hear a dog friend of mine calling me."

Another dog, at the farther end of the lot, was barking, and the Lamb crouched deeper down in the weeds.

"Dear me! this surely is an adventure," said the Lamb on Wheels to herself, as she was left alone. "Being taken away in a rag bag, as the Sawdust Doll was, couldn't be any worse than this. And though none of my legs is broken, as was one of the White Rocking Horse's, still I am almost as badly off, for I dare not move. I wonder what will happen to me next!"

It was not long before something did happen. As the Lamb stood on her wheels and wooden platform among the weeds, all at once two boys came along. They were looking for some fun.

"Oh, look!" cried a big boy. "There's a little white poodle dog over in the weeds!" and he pointed to the Lamb, whose white coat was easily seen amid the green leaves.

"Oh, we can have some fun with it!" said the little boy. "Let's call it."

So they whistled and called to the white object they thought was a dog, but the Lamb did not move. Of course she couldn't, while the boys were looking at her.

"That's funny!" said the big boy. "What do you think is the matter with that dog? It doesn't come to us."

"Let's go up and see," said the smaller lad.

Together they tramped through the weeds until they were close to the toy. Then the big boy cried out:

"Why, it isn't a dog at all! It's a Lamb on Wheels!"

"So it is!" said the little boy. "But I know how we can have some fun with it, just the same!"

"How?" asked the big boy.

"We can play Noah's Ark over in the brook," explained the small boy.

"There are some boards over there. I was making a raft of them the other day. We can make another raft now, and we can get on and sail down the brook. And we can take the Lamb on board with us and make believe we're in a Noah's Ark and that there's a flood and all like that! Won't that be fun?"

"Yes, I guess it will," said the big boy. "Come on! I'll carry the Lamb."

So, picking up the toy and tucking it under his arm, he led the way to the brook, which ran through the vacant lots. It was a nice brook, not too deep, and wide enough to sail boats on.

"Now we'll make the raft," said the smaller boy, as they came to a place on the bank of the brook where there were some boards and planks.

The big boy set the Lamb down near the water and then the two lads began to make a raft. A raft is like the big, wide, flat boat, without any house or cabin on it. It did not take long to make it.

"All aboard!" cried the big boy, when the raft had been finished. "All aboard! Come on!" He picked up the Lamb again, and walked out on the raft. The smaller boy went with his chum. With long poles, cut from a near-by tree, the boys shoved the raft out into the middle of the brook.

"Now we're a Noah's Ark!" laughed the small boy, "and we have one animal with us--a woolly Lamb on Wheels!"

And down the brook Mirabell's toy went sailing with the two boys on the raft.

"This is certainly surprising!" thought the Lamb. "I was bought by a sailor, and here I am making a voyage! I hope I shall not be seasick!"

CHAPTER IX

ON A LOAD OF WOOD

Now while the Lamb on Wheels was being carried away by the dog, and after she had been dropped in the lot, where she was picked up by the boys and put on a Noah's Ark raft--while all this was happening to the toy, Mirabell, the little girl who owned the Lamb, was almost heart-broken. After she had admired the trunk Dorothy had had given to her for the Sawdust Doll, Mirabell ran back to get her pet toy.

"Oh, where is my Lamb on Wheels?" cried Mirabell, looking up and down the street. "Where is she?"

"Where did you leave her?" asked Dorothy, who had gone back with her friend.

"I left the Lamb right here by the fence," answered Mirabell. "She had a string on. I was pulling her along the sidewalk, and when you called me I let go the string and ran. Oh, where is my nice Lamb?"

"Maybe d.i.c.k took the Lamb," suggested Dorothy to Mirabell, when they had looked up and down the street, in front of and behind the fence, and even in the yard, and had not found the toy. "d.i.c.k sometimes takes my things and hides them just for fun," Dorothy said.

"Or Arnold, maybe," added Mirabell.

Just then d.i.c.k and Arnold came out of Mirabell's house, each with a slice of bread and jam, and there was some jam around their mouths, too, showing that they had each taken a bite from their slices of bread.

"Oh, Arnold, did you take my Lamb!" cried Mirabell.

"Or did you take it, d.i.c.k?" asked his sister.

"Nope!" answered both boys, speaking at the same time.

"But where is she?" asked the little girl over and over again. "Where is my Lamb on Wheels?"

"Oh, I know!" suddenly cried d.i.c.k.

"I thought you said you didn't!" exclaimed his sister. "You said you and Arnold didn't hide her away."

"Neither did we," went on d.i.c.k. "But I think I know where she is, just the same."

"Where?" asked Arnold, as he finished the last of his bread and jam, having given his sister a bite, while d.i.c.k gave Dorothy some. "Where is the Lamb on Wheels?" asked Arnold.

"Down in our cellar!" went on d.i.c.k. "Don't you remember how she rolled down there once, when the man was putting in coal? Maybe she's there again."

"Oh, let's look!" cried Mirabell.