They all glanced back on hearing this. Surely enough the big white dog was running after them, wagging his tail joyfully, and barking from time to time.
"This will never do!" exclaimed Mr. Bobbsey. "Whoever owns him may think we are trying to take him away. I'll drive him back. Go home! Go back, sir!" exclaimed Papa Bobbsey in stern tones.
The dog stopped wagging his tail. Then he sat down on the path, and calmly waited. Mr. Bobbsey walked toward him.
"Oh, don't—don't whip him, papa!" exclaimed Flossie.
"I don't intend to," said Mr. Bobbsey. "But I must be stern with him or he will think I'm only playing. Go back!" he cried.
The dog stretched out on the path, his head down between his fore paws.
"He—he looks—sad," said Freddie. "Maybe he hasn't any home, papa."
"Oh, of course a valuable dog like that has a home," declared Bert.
"But maybe they didn't treat him kindly, and he is looking for a new one," suggested Nan, hopefully.
"He doesn't seem ill-treated," spoke Mrs. Bobbsey. "Oh, I do wish he'd go back, so we could go on."