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
