And of course Flossie and Freddie were, in the end, only Bert and Nan and their uncle, aunt, and cousin did not know that then, so of course they worried.

The storm which had been only threatening when Bert and his sister had been sent home from the fair grounds now broke, and it rained hard.  At Meadow Brook, as on most farms, little could be done when it rained, and the children saw Uncle Daniel and Aunt Sarah sitting around talking in low tones.

“I just wish I could do something!” gloomily remarked Bert, as he stood with his face pressed against the window, down which the rain drops were chasing each other.

“So do I,” echoed Nan.  “I think they might have let us help them look for Flossie and Freddie.”

“I guess your father and mother knew best,” said Harry.  “And I think the balloon will come down soon in all this rain.  It sure is pouring!”

And it was.  The storm kept up all day, and in the afternoon, when Nan was on the verge of tears and Bert had almost made up his mind to go back alone to the fair grounds and see if he could hear any news, there came a knock at the back door.

“There’s some one!” cried Nan, jumping from her chair.

“Maybe it’s Flossie and Freddie come back!” added Bert.

“They wouldn’t knock at the back door,” observed his aunt.  “Harry, go and see who it is.  Maybe it’s good news.”

Harry returned in a few moments to say: 

“It’s that boy from the merry-go-round, Bob Guess.  He wants to see your father, Bert.”

“Well, dad isn’t here, and——­”

“I told him, and then he said he wants to see some of us—­my father I think he means.  He has something to tell.”

“Bring him in here,” advised Uncle Daniel, who was trying to read the paper, though half the time he had it upside down, for he was thinking too much about poor Flossie and Freddie to pay attention to anything else.

Bob Guess came in, dripping wet, though not as ragged as when Bert and Nan had first seen him.

“What’s the matter?” asked Uncle Daniel in his jolly voice.  “Can’t you do any business at the fair on account of the rain?”

“No.  And I don’t want ever to do any more business at the fair,” answered Bob, in such strange tones that they all looked at him.

“Don’t you like the merry-go-round any more?” Bert asked.

“Oh, it isn’t that,” said Bob.  “It’s that man Blipper.  I can’t stand him any longer!  He blamed me for poor business to-day, and it wasn’t my fault at all.  In the first place, all the people went over to see the balloon go up.  Hardly anybody took rides on our machine.  Then the children—­I mean your little brother and sister,” he said to Nan, “got carried off, and everybody got scared for fear something would happen to their children, and they wouldn’t even let ’em ride on the merry-go-round.  And then the rain came down, and Blipper seemed to blame me for that.”