“What is it all about?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.  “We seem to have found a queer part of New York as soon as we arrive.”

“It’s over this way,” and Flossie, taking her father’s hand, pulled him in the direction from which she had come.  Up a flight of broad stone steps she led him, the others following, until, as they approached the main entrance of the station, Flossie pointed and said: 

“There’s the street with all the stores on it.  Freddie went down there, and we stopped in front of a window where the bugs are, that go around and around and——­”

“Yes, dear, we know all about how they go around,” said her mother, with a smile.  “But show us where Freddie is.”

“Just down the street,” said Flossie.  “Come on.”

“Oh, I see what she means!” exclaimed Mr. Bobbsey.  “It’s the arcade.  This is part of the depot—­the vestibule, so to speak,” he went on.  “It’s the entrance, and it is so big that there is room for stores on either side.  It does look like a street.”

And so it did, except that there were no automobiles or wagons in it—­just people hurrying along.  On either side of the arcade were stores, where fruit, candy, toys, flowers and other things were sold.  You can imagine that a station which has room in it for many trains, automobiles and thousands of people easily has room for stores also.

“Come on—­right down this way!” called Flossie, hurrying ahead of the others, “I’ll show you where the bugs are.”

“The bugs that go around and around and around,” laughed Bert, in a low tone to Nan.

“Oh, I do hope Freddie hasn’t gotten into any trouble,” sighed Nan, who, though she was only ten years old, felt much more grown up than either Flossie or Freddie.

“Here are the bugs!” cried Flossie, a little later, and she stopped in front of a station toy store, in the window of which a young man was showing how big tin bugs would move along on a spring roller that was fastened beneath them.  There were green, red, yellow and spotted bugs, and they did indeed go “around and around and around,” as Flossie had said, and some of them steered themselves, when started by the young man, into the door of a little pasteboard house, where all the toy tin bugs seemed to live.

“There’s Freddie now, buying a bug!” cried Flossie, as she saw through the store door her brother talking to a clerk.  And the clerk was showing Freddie how the bug “walked” on the wooden roller which answered for legs.

“I want a bug, too!” Flossie cried, and into the store dashed the little girl.  “I’ve brought back Papa and Mamma and Bert and Nan,” Flossie explained to her brother.  “They all want to see the bugs.”

“Well!” exclaimed the man in the store.  “This is going to be a busy day for me, I guess,” and he smiled at the Bobbsey family.

“Can I have three of these bugs, Daddy?” asked Freddie, just as if he had caused no trouble at all by going off as he had done.