“Am yo’ all gwine far?” asked George, the colored elevator boy, as he shot up to the tenth floor and opened the door.

“I guess not very far,” answered Freddie.  None of them knew how long a ride they would get.

Out the front entrance of the hotel went the three tots.  Because of the fire no one paid much attention to them, and the hotel help were used to seeing the children come and go, and perhaps thought Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey, or Mrs. Whipple, were not far away.

So Flossie, Freddie and Laddie had no trouble in getting out, and then they walked quietly down to the automobile patrol.  No one was near it, for automobiles—­even police ones—­are too common to look at in New York, especially when there is a fire around the corner, even if the blaze is a small one.

So, as it was, no one noticed the children climb into the patrol, and the driver, half dozing, did not hear them.

As Freddie had said, there was plenty of room for such small tots as these three to crawl under the long seats.  And when they were stowing themselves away, Freddie found some blankets, which covered himself, his sister and Laddie.

“Now they can’t see us!” said Freddie.  “But we must keep still!”

“Hush!” cautioned Flossie.  “Somebody’s coming!”

And somebody was coming.  It was the policemen coming back to take their places in the patrol, for the fire was out.  Laughing and talking, they took their places on the long seat, never noticing the children hidden below.

And, a few seconds later, away started the automobile, taking the two Bobbsey twins and Laddie on a queer ride.

CHAPTER XIX

THE GOAT

Everything would have been all right if Flossie had not sneezed.  At least that’s what Freddie said afterward, and Freddie ought to have known, for he was right there.  Laddie Dickerson did not say it was Flossie’s fault, but then it is only brothers who say such things to their sisters.  And Freddie did not really intend to make Flossie feel bad.

“But we might have had a bigger ride if you hadn’t sneezed,” said Freddie, after it was all over.

“Well, I couldn’t help it,” was what Flossie said.  “And I guess you’d have sneezed, too, if that fuzzy blanket kept tickling your nose; so there!”

It was in the police patrol automobile that Flossie sneezed.  With Freddie and Laddie, she was having a ride, you remember, the three children having hidden themselves under the seats, wrapped up in blankets, when the machine stood in front of the hotel while the policemen were at the fire.

For a time the two small Bobbsey twins and Laddie rode along in silence, the policemen not knowing the children were at their very feet.  And after they had ridden about ten blocks, Flossie sneezed.

“A-ker-choo!” she cried, when a piece of the fuzzy blanket tickled her nose.  “A-ker-choo!”