“Is that all the breakfast she’s going to have?” asked Freddie, as he saw the infant turn away from the milk. “I want a lot more than that! I’m hungry! I got to go to school!”
“So have I!” echoed Flossie.
“My gracious, that’s so! I almost forgot I had to go to the office!” exclaimed Mr. Bobbsey. “And all the work I’ve got to do on account of the flood! Come, children, hurry with your breakfasts—but don’t eat too fast—and then skip off to school. Your mother will know what to do with the baby.”
“You’re going to keep her, aren’t you, Mother? You’re going to keep Baby May, surely!” exclaimed Nan, as she went back to the table.
“We’ll see about it,” Mrs. Bobbsey answered. “Of course we couldn’t keep the baby away from her real father and mother.”
“No, of course not,” slowly agreed Nan. “But that old woman wasn’t her mother, or she wouldn’t have left her on our doorstep, would she?”
“I don’t believe so,” said Mr. Bobbsey.
“She was a kidnapper! That’s what she was!” declared Bert.
“Maybe she was a gypsy,” suggested Freddie.
“No, I hardly think that,” said Daddy Bobbsey. “From what you told me of her, I wouldn’t say she was a gypsy, and kidnappers don’t usually leave the children they take. I don’t know just what to think.”