“Stay here?” repeated Mrs. Bobbsey.
“Bert and I can sleep in the auto,” went on her husband. “We have often done it.”
“But there isn’t room for all of us!”
“You and Flossie and Freddie can sleep in that cabin,” went on Mr. Bobbsey. “It will be a good shelter and it isn’t going to rain, so it won’t matter if the roof leaks, and it looks as if it might, the place is so old. We have some auto robes with us, and the night is going to be very warm.”
“Do you really mean I should stay in that lonely cabin with Flossie and Freddie and Nan?” asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
“Why not?” asked her husband. “We have camped out in worse places than that, and so have the children.”
“I like it!” declared Flossie. “Maybe there’s a kitten in the cabin.”
“I like it, too,” said Freddie, always quick to side with his twin sister. “We’ll pretend we’re Indians!”
“Let’s take a look at the place and see if it’s as bad as it appears,” suggested Mr. Bobbsey. “Of course if it is too terrible, we’ll try to get the spare tire on and move along.”
“Oh, I don’t want to give you too much trouble,” Mrs. Bobbsey was quick to say. “But at first glance that place looked sort of—well, lonesome. Perhaps it will be all right. Let’s go and look,” she concluded.