"So it is!" agreed Nan. "And he's crying."
There was no doubt of that: It was Bob Guess, the lad the Bobbsey twins had seen working at the merry-go-round engine the day of the Sunday school picnic. Bob came slowly along, sobbing hard.
"What's the matter, Bob?" asked Bert, who had taken a liking to the ragged chap. For the time being Mr. Bobbsey's missing coat and the lap robe were forgotten. "Why are you crying?"
"Can we help you?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey.
Bob Guess ceased sobbing and looked up. He seemed surprised to see the children and their parents.
"Oh, I—I didn't know anybody was here," he stammered.
"That's all right," said Mr. Bobbsey. "If there's anything we can do to help you—— Where's Mr. Blipper, by the way? There is something I should like to ask him. Or perhaps you can tell me."
"Not now, Dick, not now," said Mrs. Bobbsey in a whisper, with a shake of her head at her husband. She knew what he wanted to ask—about his coat and the robe. "Not now; he is too miserable," she went on.
"Has anything happened?" asked Mr. Bobbsey, changing his first line of questions.
"Ye—yes," stammered Bob, not sobbing so hard now. "I—I've run away from Mr. Blipper!"