So they rode up and down the block again, and when that was over Flossie and Freddie spent some time talking to Mike.

By this time Mrs. Bobbsey had ended her visit and had come out to look for her children.

“I thought I told you not to go off the steps,” she said.  They were down the street looking at the goat.

“Well, we didn’t mean to,” admitted Freddie.  “But we did so much want a goat ride.”

“And we had ten cents’ worth!” laughed Flossie.

Mrs. Bobbsey smiled.  It was very hard to be cross with these small twins.  They never meant to do wrong, and, I suppose, taking a ride up and down the block was not so very bad.

“Good-bye!” called Freddie to Mike, the goat boy, as Mrs. Bobbsey led her children away.

“Good-bye!” added Flossie, waving her hand.

“Good-bye,” echoed Mike.

“And don’t forget!” said Freddie.

“No, I won’t.”

Mrs. Bobbsey might have asked what it was Mike was not to forget, only she was in a hurry to get back to the hotel, and so did not question Freddie.

When they reached their rooms they found a letter from Mr. Bobbsey, saying he would have to stay in Lakeport a day longer than he expected.  But he would soon be in New York again, he wrote.

Bert and Nan came home from the moving pictures, saying they had had a delightful time.

“So did we—­in a goat wagon,” cried Freddie.

“And Freddie and me are goin’ to——­” began Flossie, but Freddie quickly cried: 

“Come on and play fire engine, Flossie!” so his little sister did not finish what she had started to say.

It was the next day, soon after breakfast, that one of the hotel messengers—­a small colored boy—­knocked on the door of the suite of apartments occupied by the Bobbsey family, and when Mrs. Bobbsey answered, the colored boy said: 

“He am downstairs, Ma’am.  He am in de lobby.”

“Who is?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.

“De boy what wants to see yo’ little boy, Ma’am.”

“Some one to see Freddie?  Who is it?”

“I don’t know, Ma’am.  He didn’t gib no name.”

“Oh, perhaps it is Laddie,” said Mrs. Bobbsey.  “Bert, please go down and see, will you?  If it’s Laddie, who wants Freddie to play with him, I don’t see why he didn’t come here.  But go and see.”

“Oh, I know who it is,” said Freddie, “You don’t need to go, Bert.  Just give me five dollars, Mother, and I’ll buy him.”

“Buy him?  Buy what?” asked the surprised Mrs. Bobbsey.  “What in the world are you talking about, Freddie?”

“Mike, the goat boy.  He’s brought Billy here, I guess, and Flossie and I are going to buy him.  Can’t we, please?”

“What?  Buy a goat when we’re stopping at this hotel?” cried his mother.  “Bert, do go and see what mischief those children have gotten into now.  A goat!  Oh, dear!”

“I’ll go with him, ’cause Mike don’t know Bert,” offered Freddie.