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Well, I suppose we can't do anything more," and he sighed, for half the beautiful boathouse was in ruins. Mr. Bobbsey and Bert were soon at home, telling the news to the folks. Freddie's eyes opened wide in surprise as he listened to the account of how the firemen had put out the fire. "Oh, I wish I could have been there!" he cried. "I could have helped." "What caused the fire?" asked Mrs.
But all de same you'se Dinah's baby boy," and kind-hearted Dinah rubbed Freddie's feet well, so he would not take cold; then, with fresh clothing, she made him just as comfortable and happy as he had been when he had started out shell hunting. "Harry is coming to-day," Bert told Freddie, on the morning following the shell hunt, "and maybe Aunt Sarah will come with him.
"No, you stay there and get the moving picture," said Mr. Watson. "It will make a funny scene, and Freddie is in no danger. The water isn't deep! I'll get him out!" "That's the second time Freddie's fallen in," said Bert, as he ran toward the brook. "Help me out! Help me out!" sobbed Freddie, splashing about in the water. "There you are, my little man! Not hurt a bit! Up again! Out again!" and Mr.
Derek, who had finished his kedgeree and was now making himself a blot on Freddie's horizon with toast and marmalade, laughed. "What a rabbit you are, Freddie! Why on earth are you so afraid of mother?" Freddie looked at him as a timid young squire might have gazed upon St. George when the latter set out to do battle with the dragon. He was of the amiable type which makes heroes of its friends.
They were playing with a little cart of Freddie's, and, as you can easily guess, Freddie was pretending he was a fireman. "When are we going?" asked Bert. "Can't we go right away? School is almost over, and I know I'm going to pass 'cause the teacher said so. Nan is, too!" "My, but you are getting in a hurry!" said Mr. Bobbsey.
Katherine laughed a trifle hardly after a stiff moment; then a queer light flitted into her eyes, the light of awakened opposition. Constance was saying to herself, "She's in love with Freddie. I might have known it." Back in her brain lay the memory of Freddie's violent protestations of love, uttered during those recent days in Paris.
Bert and I can carry one out and swim with one hand. Harry and Jack, can you manage the other?" The boys said they could, and quickly as the heaviest clothes could be thrown off they were striking out in the little lake toward the baby in the boat. He was only Freddie's age, you know, and perhaps more of a baby than the good-natured Bobbsey boy.
"And after all," I said, "there's lots to be said for having a child about the house, if you know what I mean. Kind of cosy and domestic what!" Just then the kid upset the milk over Freddie's trousers, and when he had come back after changing his clothes he began to talk about what a much-maligned man King Herod was.
He looked down, but neither James nor any other man was in sight; and the office, where Freddie's father was working, was far on the other side of the yard. "Oh dear!" cried Freddie again. And then, with a crash, the top of the lumber pile slid over, carrying Freddie with it. A cloud of dust arose and the little Bobbsey chap could see nothing for a few seconds.
If Freddie's worst enemy in that world had murdered him, Freddie would have used his last breath in shielding him from the common foe, the law. "If you're not married to him, you're free," said Freddie with a sudden new kind of interest in her. "I told you I should always be free." They remained facing each other a moment.
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