“Are you sure you saw her, Freddie?” she inquired.
“Course I’m sure!” replied Flossie’s twin brother. “I saw her with my own eyes, and so did Baby May! You can ask her!” He looked down at the cooing child as if May could answer. But May only smiled up at Freddie, and her smile was very sweet.
“I must telephone daddy about this,” decided Mrs. Bobbsey, after another look up and down the street, without, however, seeing the strange woman. “If she is back in Lakeport the police should know about it, so they can try to find out to whom the baby belongs. I’ll telephone daddy.”
This she did, and Mr. Bobbsey grew rather excited when he heard the news. He hurried home from the office at the lumber dock and at once began a search of the neighborhood for the old woman. He inquired of the neighbors and others, but, though some said they remembered seeing her, they could not tell where she had gone.
Nor did the police have any better luck, for though two of them scurried about town, looking for traces of the stranger, she could not be found.
“Well, this is very strange,” said Mr. Bobbsey that night, when Baby May had gone to sleep and they were talking over matters after supper. “At first I thought maybe Freddie might be mistaken.”
“You mean that he didn’t see any old lady at all?” asked Bert.
“Yes. I thought perhaps he might have—well, sort of dreamed it,” and Mr. Bobbsey smiled at the little boy.
“I didn’t dream it!” cried Freddie, very positively. “I saw the old woman, and so did Baby May. Anyhow, I don’t dream in the daytime with my eyes open.”
“No, I suppose not,” agreed his father. “Well, since you saw her, and since others saw her, there is no doubt but that some old lady started to come into our yard. Whether she was the same one the children saw just before Baby May was left on our doorstep—that is another question.”