“I guess they’ll get home first,” said Nan to Bert.

“I guess so—­I Bob Guess so!” he added, making a joke on the name of the strange lad who had worked the steam organ of the merry-go-round.

“I feel sorry for that boy,” said Nan.  “Mr. Blipper was so cross and mean to him.”

“Yes, he was cross,” agreed Bert.  “I hope daddy finds his coat,” he added.  “It’s funny to have a coat stolen at a Sunday school picnic.”

“Maybe somebody took it by mistake,” suggested his sister.

“I don’t believe they would, and leave an old ragged coat in place of a good one,” Bert remarked.

“Maybe not,” said Nan.

The picnic party was rather more quiet on the journey home than it had been on the way to Pine Grove.  The reason was that the children were tired, and some of them sleepy.  They sang for a while after leaving the grove, Bert and Nan starting many melodies in which the others joined.

But finally the songs died away, and about the only noise that was heard was the rumble of the big trucks.

“Do we have to cross any bridges?” asked Mrs. Morris, of the driver of the auto in which she rode with the Bobbsey twins.

“One bridge—­yes, lady,” was the answer.

“Dear me!  I hope it doesn’t break down as the white one did to-day,” exclaimed the nervous little lady.

“No danger.  It’s a big iron one,” said the driver.

“I’m glad of that,” went on Mrs. Morris.  “I’m always worried when I cross a bridge.”

But there were no more accidents.  The trucks took a little longer returning to Lakeport than they had making the trip earlier in the day, for they had to go a roundabout way.  But finally the outskirts of the town were reached, and the children began getting off as they neared their homes.

“Good-by!  Good-by!” they called one to another.

Finally the home of the Bobbsey twins came in sight in the early summer evening.

“Good-by, Bert and Nan!” called their chums.

“Good-by, Flossie and Freddie!”

“Good-by!  Good-by!” echoed the Bobbsey twins.

“Dad is home ahead of us,” remarked Bert to Nan, as they went up the steps.

“How do you know?” asked Nan.

“Because I see the runabout there,” and Bert pointed toward the garage.  “Seems to be something wrong,” Bert went on.  “Mother is there and so is Sam.”

“Let’s go see what it is,” suggested Nan, as Dinah came to the door, calling: 

“Am mah honey lambs safe an’ sound?”

“Yes, Dinah!” said Freddie.  “And I’m hungry, too!”

“Ah spects yo’ is, honey!  Ah spects yo’ is!” laughed the jolly, fat cook.  “Come right in yeah an’ hab some cake!”

“I’m going to ride on a lion, I am!” stated Flossie.

“Good lan’, chile!  A lion!” exclaimed Dinah, raising her hands in surprise.

“Yep!  A lion!”

“Oh, mah honey lamb!  Don’t yo’ do no sich a thing!” cried Dinah.  “A lion done eat yo’ laigs off!”