“I hope so!” exclaimed Mrs. Bobbsey. “But just fancy us, turning right in here! It’s remarkable!”
“Zeek and I had to run for it ourselves,” explained Mr. Watson. “I had left the doors open to dry out some early hay I had hauled in, and Zeek—his name is Zeek Trimmer and he works for me,” he explained, as the hired man nodded, “Zeek and I were working around outside, when, almost before we knew it, the rain came down in bucketfuls. So we had to run to the barn.”
“And then you folks came along,” added Zeek, who seemed a very pleasant sort of person. The Bobbsey twins thought they were going to like him very much.
“I’m very glad to see you again, Mr. Watson,” said Mr. Bobbsey as he shook hands with the farmer. “I didn’t know you at first. I guess I must have had some rain in my eyes. How is Mrs. Watson and Baby May—I mean Baby Jenny? We all have a habit of calling the little girl by the name we gave her,” he explained.
“That’s all right,” laughed the farmer. “She’s fine, and so is my wife. They’ll be mighty pleased to see you. We’ll go to the house as soon as this rain lets up. You can leave your car right here for a while. Afterward we can run it to the garage. But you’re a little late, aren’t you?”
“Yes, we were delayed on the road,” explained Mr. Bobbsey, and he told of the happenings on the trip, how they had had to go back to return the five kittens, and then how they had had to stay all night at the lonely cabin.
“Well, we’re glad to see you, anyhow,” returned the farmer. “Zeek and I will bring your things in,” he went on, as he saw Mrs. Bobbsey beginning to take articles out of the car.
“I guess I better carry my doll,” explained Flossie. “You might drop her, Mr. May—I mean Mr. Watson,” she quickly corrected herself.
“All right, little lady!” chuckled Baby Jenny’s father. “I’m used to carrying my own little girl, and I don’t drop her; but maybe your doll is so heavy she might slip out of my arms. Though I could wrap her in a bundle of hay and carry her like that,” he added, as he caught up a wisp of hay from the barn floor and pretended it was a doll.
“Oh, yes, you could carry her that way,” admitted Flossie. “But I guess I’d better take her myself—though thank you just the same,” she added after a moment of thought. Then she took her doll, which her mother handed out of the car.