“Well, don’t forget, and go off, leaving it hang on the tree,” warned his wife.

“I won’t,” said Mr. Bobbsey.

A fire was made, and as Mrs. Bobbsey was sitting with her back against a stump, comfortably sipping her tea, she heard the sound of crying.  As Bert and Nan, with Flossie and Freddie, were gathering flowers not far away, Mrs. Bobbsey could see that it was none of her twins who was sobbing.

But the crying kept up, and she looked around to see whence it came.  Mr. Bobbsey was busy packing up the lunch things, for there was enough food left to serve a little tea around five o’clock, since Meadow Brook Farm would not be reached before seven o’clock that evening, on account of the delay over the tire.

“Who is that crying, Dick?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.

“Crying?  Why, I don’t hear—­yes, I do, too!” her husband added, as the sound of sobs came to his ears.  He looked to make sure his own children were all right and then glanced about.

As he did so there came from a little clump of trees, not far from the grove where the Bobbseys had eaten lunch, a ragged boy, who seemed in pain or distress, for he was crying very hard.

“Oh, the poor lad!” said Mrs. Bobbsey in a kind voice.  “Go see what the matter is, Dick!  He is in trouble of some sort!  I wonder who he is?”

“Yes, without doubt, the lad’s in trouble.  We’ll see what we can do,” answered the father of the twins.

The crying boy walked slowly toward the Bobbsey family, and now the twins, hearing his sobs, looked up in wonder from their flower-gathering.

CHAPTER VIII

ANGRY MR. BLIPPER

“Why, it’s Bob Guess!” cried Bert, dropping his bunch of flowers, so excited was he.  “It’s Bob Guess!”

“So it is!” agreed Nan.  “And he’s crying.”

There was no doubt of that:  It was Bob Guess, the lad the Bobbsey twins had seen working at the merry-go-round engine the day of the Sunday school picnic.  Bob came slowly along, sobbing hard.

“What’s the matter, Bob?” asked Bert, who had taken a liking to the ragged chap.  For the time being Mr. Bobbsey’s missing coat and the lap robe were forgotten.  “Why are you crying?”

“Can we help you?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.

Bob Guess ceased sobbing and looked up.  He seemed surprised to see the children and their parents.

“Oh, I—­I didn’t know anybody was here,” he stammered.

“That’s all right,” said Mr. Bobbsey.  “If there’s anything we can do to help you——­ Where’s Mr. Blipper, by the way?  There is something I should like to ask him.  Or perhaps you can tell me.”

“Not now, Dick, not now,” said Mrs. Bobbsey in a whisper, with a shake of her head at her husband.  She knew what he wanted to ask—­about his coat and the robe.  “Not now; he is too miserable,” she went on.

“Has anything happened?” asked Mr. Bobbsey, changing his first line of questions.