“Ye—­yes,” stammered Bob, not sobbing so hard now.  “I—­I’ve run away from Mr. Blipper!”

“You’ve run away!” echoed Nan.

Bob nodded his head vigorously to show that he meant “yes,” and he went on: 

“He treated me mean!  There was a lot of hard work setting up the merry-go-round at the Bolton Fair, and I had more than my share.  He wouldn’t give me any money—­he hardly gave me enough to eat.  And I ran away.  I’m not done running yet, only I’m so hungry I can’t go very fast any more.”

“You poor boy!” murmured Mrs. Bobbsey.  “Is that why you cried—­because you were hungry?”

“Yes—­yes’m,” murmured Bob Guess.

“Well, we have plenty to eat,” said Mr. Bobbsey, with a kindly pat on the shoulder of the ragged boy.  “Here, we’ll give you a lunch, and then maybe you can tell me what I want to know.  Where is Mr. Blipper?”

“He’s back there at the merry-go-round.  We had some trouble with the engine.  But I guess he has it fixed by now.  He’s back at the fair grounds.  It opens to-morrow.  That is, he’s there unless he has come chasing after me.”

“Do you think he’d do that?” asked Bert.  It was quite an exciting adventure, Bert thought, to run away and be chased by Mr. Blipper.

“Well, he said if I ever ran away he’d run after me and bring me back,” answered Bob.  “Anyhow, I’ve run away, but it isn’t as much fun as I thought it’d be.  Only I can’t stand Mr. Blipper!  He’s too cross!”

“Poor boy!” murmured Mrs. Bobbsey again.  “Get him something to eat, Dick.  He must be very hungry!”

And Bob was, to judge by the manner in which he ate some of the Bobbsey’s lunch.  It was a good thing there was plenty.  Having eaten all he seemed to care for and drinking two glasses of milk, Bob leaned back against a tree stump and said: 

“Now can’t I do something to pay you for my meal?”

“Do something to pay for it?” repeated Mrs. Bobbsey, wonderingly.

“Yes, Mr. Blipper says I’ve always got to work for my board.  Sometimes he says I’m not worth my salt.”

“Well, this time there is no need of doing anything for us,” said Mr. Bobbsey.  “You are welcome to what you have had to eat.  But now what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to run away farther if I can,” Bob Guess answered.

“Hum!  I’m not so sure that we ought to let you, now that we know about you,” went on the father of the Bobbsey twins.  “Has this Mr. Blipper any claim on you?”

“He says he adopted me and can keep me until I’m twenty-one years old.”

“He may be right.  I don’t know about that.  It must be looked into.  Anyhow, I don’t feel like letting you run away, Bob,” went on Mr. Bobbsey kindly.  “I’d like to have a talk with Blipper on my own account, and I could ask him about you.  Did you happen to see——­”

But before Mr. Bobbsey could ask what he intended to—­about his missing coat and the lap robe—­a man from the garage where the automobile had been left to have the tire changed came across the field.