“That’s so,” admitted his brother.
“Whoa there! Whoa! Whoa!” called Mary to the horse. But the horse wouldn’t stop, and kept on going, taking the Trippertrot children farther and farther down the street.
“Oh, what shall we do?” asked Mary, of her brothers. “We will be lost again.”
“I guess we will,” spoke Johnny, but he didn’t seem to mind it very much.
“Can’t you pull on the lines and make the horse stop?” asked Tommy.
“The lines are too far out,” answered Johnny. “I might fall if I reached for them.”
“Then call to some one—a policeman or anybody—and ask him to please stop the horse,” suggested Mary. “Oh, boys! this time it isn’t our fault that we’re running away; is it?”
“No, indeed,” answered Tommy. “But the horse isn’t running, he is only walking. Maybe he’ll stop soon.”
“He’s running now,” suddenly exclaimed Johnny, and, surely enough, the horse began to go faster and faster, giving the Trippertrots a nice ride, but still taking them farther and farther away from home.
“Oh, we’re lost again!” cried Mary, as she and her brothers sat down in the back of the wagon, in among the boxes and baskets of groceries. “I wonder where we will end up?”