“Oh! Oh!” suddenly cried the little girl.
Freddie turned and saw that she had fallen down.
“Did you hurt yourself, Flossie?” asked her brother kindly.
“N-n-no; not mu-mu-much!” she stammered. “Is my—now, is my nose red?” she asked, raising her head from the ground, where she still lay.
Freddie ran forward and dipped one foot in the water of the pond.
“That’s to show I beat and got in first,” he said. Then he went back to Flossie who was still stretched out on the ground. He wanted to be kind to his sister, but a race was a race. “Your nose is a little red,” he went on.
“Is it bleeding?” Flossie wanted to know, about ready to cry.
“No, it isn’t bleeding,” Freddie answered.
“Then I guess it’s all right,” Flossie went on. “Please help me up, Freddie.”
Freddie did this, and the two barefooted Bobbsey twins, hand in hand, walked toward the pond. Freddie did not care now if Flossie got in ahead of him, for he had wet his feet first.