“No,” answered Tommy, “I don’t.”
“Me either,” said Johnny. “We surely are lost again, and we have the postman’s letter, and that’s lost, too.”
“Oh, we must be very careful of that letter,” said Mary. “We must keep it safe. Here, Tommy, you had better let me carry it. Boys are such careless creatures. I’ll put it in my pocket.”
“Huh! We’ve got more pockets than you have,” declared Johnny, but Mary took the letter and put it in her coat pocket.
“Now we must decide what to do,” the little Trippertrot girl said. “It will soon be night, and we ought to be home, but we can’t find where we live. So let’s sit down on this doorstep, and maybe a policeman will come along and take us back to papa and mamma.”
So down they sat on the cold stone steps, and they looked up and down the street for a kind policeman, but they saw none. And they were—lost again—with a lost letter. Oh, wasn’t it dreadful? But don’t worry. I’ll help them all I can. You just wait for the next story and see what happens.
ADVENTURE NUMBER TEN
THE TRIPPERTROTS AND THE MILKMAN
“Oh, dear!” exclaimed Mary Trippertrot, after a while, “if we didn’t want a policeman one would be sure to come along, but when you do want one, there never is any. I wonder what we had better do?”
“Well, I know what we hadn’t better do,” spoke Tommy, her brother, quickly.
“What is that?” asked Johnny, Mary’s other brother.