"Yes, sir. But I don't want to stay—I want to go home."
"All right, you shall go. But this beats me!"
"Are you the man who owns the store?" questioned Freddie curiously.
At this the man laughed. "No; wish I did. I'm the night watchman. Let me see, what is your name?"
"Freddie Bobbsey. My papa owns the lumber yard."
"Oh, yes, I remember now. Well, Freddie, I reckon your papa will soon come after you. All of 'em are about half crazy, wondering what has become of you."
The night watchman led the way to the first floor of the department store and Freddie followed, still clutching the black kitten, which seemed well content to remain with him.
"I'll telephone to your papa," said the watchman, and going into one of the offices he rang the bell and called up the number of the Bobbsey residence.
In the meantime Mrs. Bobbsey and the others of the family were almost frantic with
