Mr. Bobbsey pretended to pick up a stone and throw it at the dog, as masters sometimes do when they do not want their dogs to follow them. This dog only wagged his tail, as though he thought it the best joke he had ever known.
"Go back! Go back, I say!" cried Papa Bobbsey in a loud voice. The dog did not move.
"I guess he won't follow us any more," went on Mr. Bobbsey. "Hurry along now, children. We are almost at the trolley." He turned away from the dog, who seemed to be asleep now, and the family went on. For a minute or two, as Nan could tell by looking back, the dog did not follow, but just as the Bobbseys were about to make a turn in the path, up jumped the animal and came trotting on after the children and their parents, wagging his tail so fast that it seemed as if it would come loose.
"Is he coming?" asked Flossie.
"He certainly is," answered Bert, who was in the rear. "I guess he wants us to take him home with us."
"Oh, let's do it!" begged Flossie.
"Please, papa," pleaded Freddie. "We haven't got Snoop now, so let us have a dog. And I'm sure we could teach him to do tricks—he's so smart."
"And so he's coming after us still!" exclaimed Mr. Bobbsey. "Well, well, I don't know what to do," and he came to a stop on the path.
"Couldn't we take him home just for tonight?" asked Nan, "and then in the morning we could find out who owns him and return him."
"Oh, please do," begged Freddie and Flossie, impulsively.