“I should say you did!” chuckled the other man.
“We are on our way to a place called Cloverbank,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “We are going to stay there for the summer. I think it is near here.”
“Oh, yes, it’s right near here,” went on the man who had said he knew the owner of the barn. “In fact, it couldn’t be any closer; could it, Zeek?” and he nodded to his companion.
“It’s about as close as you can get to it,” declared the other.
Just then Mrs. Bobbsey gave a little cry of delight and exclaimed:
“Oh, now I know you! I was wondering where I had seen you before! You are Mr. Watson himself!” and she walked forward and held out her hand to the man who had first spoken.
“Is this Baby May—I mean Baby Jenny’s father?” asked Nan.
“That’s who I am!” was the laughing reply.
“And is this Cloverbank?” demanded Freddie.
“That’s what it is, little man!” said Mr. Watson. “You drove right in on us. This is one of my barns, and I’m glad Zeek and I had the doors open so you could roll right in. Welcome to Cloverbank! I wish you could have arrived in better weather,” he continued, as a vivid flash of lightning came and a heavy peal of thunder seemed to shake the ground. “But I think the storm will soon be over.”