“Oh, maybe! I hope so!” murmured Nan.
But when Bert came back a little later, having found no place to fish, he said he had not wheeled away Baby May.
“Then where is she?” gasped Nan, her heart fluttering strangely.
“She—she’s lost!” cried Flossie, and then, as the dreadful thought became clearer to her she sobbed: “Baby May is lost!”
CHAPTER XVII
THE GREEN UMBRELLA
Certainly it was very strange—this vanishing of Baby May, carriage and all. What could it mean?
“Oh! Oh!” sobbed Flossie. “What will mother say? It wasn’t my fault, was it?” she asked, remembering the time she had left the baby carriage for a moment and it had so nearly rolled under the runaway horses hitched to the coal wagon.
“No, dear, of course it wasn’t your fault,” replied Nan soothingly. “But where can the baby be? We weren’t gone so very long. Bert, are you sure you aren’t playing a joke on us?”
“Course I’m not playing a joke!” ejaculated Bert earnestly. “I wouldn’t play a joke like this!”
And Nan believed him.