Tommy and Johnny did, too, and they hadn’t been sitting there very long, waiting for Jiggily, when, all at once, up drove a milk wagon, and out jumped the milkman, with a whole lot of bottles of milk in a little wire basket.
“Oh, you’re here, are you?” the milkman asked, of the Trippertrots, with a jolly laugh.
“Yes, did you expect to see us?” inquired Mary, for she had never seen that milkman before, that she could remember.
“Well, I generally expect to find you somewhere along where I drive,” went on the milkman. “Your papa has told me about you, and how you run away so much.”
“Oh, then, you know us!” exclaimed Tommy, in delight.
“To be sure I do,” was the milkman’s answer. “Why, I leave milk at your house every morning. Of course I know you, and sooner or later I’ve been expecting to find you.”
“That’s funny, we never saw you at our house,” said Johnny.
“No, but that’s because I come around so early in the morning, so your papa can have cream in his coffee,” went on the milkman. “But what are you doing here?”
Then the Trippertrots told him how they had run out to give the lost letter to the postman, and how they had become lost themselves, and how Jiggily Jig had started home with them, and how they had reached the fisherman’s house.
“But he’s in there now with the letter, and he’s been gone some time, and we’re tired,” sighed Mary.