“Look out you don’t fall down the hole!” cried Mirabell.

Just then Carlo gave a jump around behind the little girl, and, somehow or other, he became entangled in the string that was tied on the Lamb.

“Look out, Carlo!  Look out!” cried Mirabell.  “Be careful or you’ll break my Lamb’s string!”

But Carlo was not careful.  He did not mean to make trouble, but he did.  He barked and growled and jumped around until his legs were all tangled up in the cord.

“Oh, look!” suddenly cried Arnold.  “Look at your Lamb!”

And, as he spoke, Carlo gave a big jump to get the tangling string off his legs.  The string broke, but, as it did so, the Lamb started to roll toward the open coal hole.  And, at the same moment, the driver of the wagon began shoveling some of the black lumps down the opening.

“Oh!  Oh!  Oh!” cried Mirabell.

And then the white, woolly Lamb on Wheels rolled across the sidewalk, and disappeared down into the dark coal hole!

CHAPTER VII

THE LAMB CARRIED AWAY

Mirabell and Arnold were so surprised for a moment at what had happened that they could only stand, looking at the hole in the sidewalk down which the Lamb on Wheels had fallen.  Carlo, the fuzzy little dog, seemed to know he had done something wrong in getting tangled in the string, breaking it off, and so sending the Lamb wheeling along until she slid into the coal hole.  And the dog gave a howl and ran back toward the house, having finally managed to get his legs loose from the cord.

“Bow-wow!” barked Carlo, as he ran.

Perhaps he feared that he, too, might slip down that black, dark hole which led into the coal bin of Dorothy’s house.  Then as Mirabell and Arnold stood, looking with wide-opened eyes at the place where they had last seen the Lamb, the man on the wagon threw another shovelful of coal down the hole.

“Wait a minute!  Stop!  Oh, please stop!” begged Mirabell.

“Whut’s dat?  Whut’s de mattah?” asked the coal-wagon driver.

He was a colored man, and that was the very best shade for him, I think.  No matter how much coal dust got on his face and hands it never showed.

“Her little Lamb fell down the coal hole,” explained Arnold.  “Carlo got tangled in the string, it broke and she fell down the hole.  Don’t throw any more coal on her until we get her out.”

“Does you-all mean dat Carlo fell down de hole?” asked the colored coal-wagon driver.

“No, Carlo is a dog,” explained Mirabell.  “He got tangled up in my Lamb’s string, and she fell down the hole.  I haven’t named my Lamb yet.  She’s on wheels.”

“On wheels?” cried the man.  “A Lamb on Wheels?  Well, I ’clar to goodness dat’s de fustest time I ebber done heah ob a t’ing laikdat!”

“Oh, she isn’t a real, live lamb,” explained Mirabell.  “She’s a toy, woolly one from the store, and my Uncle Tim, who’s a sailor, gave her to me.”