"No, I don't want any more rides on the old skate wagon!" cried his sister. "I don't like it."
"Then we can have it all ourselves, Russ!" exclaimed Laddie.
"No, you can't either!" said Rose, and she suddenly stopped crying. "You can't have my skate wagon. I want it myself!"
"But if you can't stand up you can't ride on it——" began Mrs. Bunker.
"But I can stand up, Mother!" cried Rose, and she did, showing that nothing much was the matter with her.
"See, then you're not hurt," said her mother. "Now don't begin to cry again, and you can have some more rides. But perhaps you had better not coast down any more hills. Just ride along the sidewalk as you did on your roller skates. That will be best."
"Yes, maybe I'll do that," said Rose. "Where's the dog that made me run into him?"
The little dog was safely behind his own fence now, looking out through the pickets and barking. Perhaps he wondered what it was all about, and what had happened to him. He had been knocked about a bit, and bruised, but not much hurt. Only he was "all mussed up," as Russ said, after a look at him.
"Well, I guess he won't get in the way of your roller-skate wagon again," said Mrs. Bunker. "Now you can take some more rides, Rose. Your knees are all right."
And so they were, after they had been washed off with a little warm water. Then Rose and her brothers, with Violet taking a turn now and then, had fine fun on the skatemobile. They rode down the hill though, as they found they could steer better when going fast.