“Oh, look at ’em run!” cried the fresh air boy who sat in front of the smaller Bobbsey twins.  “Don’t they go fast?”

The other fresh air youngsters crowded to their windows to look out, and some tried to push their companions away so they might see better.  Then a number all wanted a drink of water at the same time, and the two ladies who were in charge of the children were kept busy making them settle down.

The quiet, neat boy about whom Flossie had whispered to her brother, turned around in his seat and, looking at Freddie, asked: 

“Were you ever on a farm?”

“Yes,” answered Freddie, “we just came from our uncle Dan’s farm, at Meadow Brook.  We were there ’most all Summer.  Now we’re going back home.”

“Where do you live, and what’s your name?” asked the strange boy.

“My name’s Freddie Bobbsey, and this is my sister Flossie,” was the answer.  “We’re twins.  Up there, in that other seat, are my brother and sister, Bert and Nan.  They’re twins too, but they’re older’n we are.  We live in Lakeport.”

“You do?” cried the boy in surprise.  “Why, that’s where I live!  My name is Tommy Todd.”

“That’s a nice name,” put in Flossie politely.  “I don’t know any one of that name in Lakeport though.  Where does your father live?”

Tommy Todd did not answer at once, and Freddie was surprised to see tears in the eyes of the strange boy.

“I—­I guess you folks don’t ever come down to our part of Lakeport,” he said.  “We live down near the dumps.  It isn’t very nice there.”

Freddie had heard of the “dumps.”  It was on the farther side of the city, a long distance from his nice home.  Once, when he was very little, he had wandered away and been lost.  A policeman who found him had said Freddie was near the “dumps.”

Freddie remembered that very well.  Afterward, he heard that the “dumps” was a place where the ashes, tin cans, and other things that people threw away were dumped by the scavengers.  So Freddie was sure it could not be a very nice place.

“I live out near the dumps, with my grandmother,” went on Tommy Todd.

“We’ve a grandmother too,” said Flossie.  “We go to see her at Christmas.  We’ve two grandmas.  One is my mother’s mother, and the other is my father’s mother.  That’s my papa and my mother back there,” and Flossie pointed to where Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey were talking to the fresh air lady.

“Doesn’t your father live with you and your grandmother?” asked Freddie.

“I—­I haven’t any father,” said Tommy, and once more the tears came into his eyes.  “He was lost at sea.  He was a captain on a ship, and it was wrecked.”

“Oh, please tell us about it!” begged Freddie.  “I just love stories about the ocean; don’t you, Flossie?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I’m going to be a sea captain when I grow up,” said Freddie.  “Tell us about your father, Tommy.”