"Oh, I know who it is," said Freddie, "You don't need to go, Bert. Just give me five dollars, Mother, and I'll buy him."
"Buy him? Buy what?" asked the surprised Mrs. Bobbsey. "What in the world are you talking about, Freddie?"
"Mike, the goat boy. He's brought Billy here, I guess, and Flossie and I are going to buy him. Can't we, please?"
"What? Buy a goat when we're stopping at this hotel?" cried his mother. "Bert, do go and see what mischief those children have gotten into now. A goat! Oh, dear!"
"I'll go with him, 'cause Mike don't know Bert," offered Freddie.
"And I want to come!" said Flossie. "I want to see our goat."
"Your goat!" cried Nan.
"Yes, we're going to buy him. Mike brought him to sell to us."
And that is what had happened. When Mrs. Bobbsey followed Bert and Freddie down to the hotel lobby, leaving Nan to look after Flossie in the rooms, this is what she saw:
Out at the side entrance to the hotel was the goat and the rickety express wagon, in charge of a red-haired, snub-nosed boy, Mike's small brother. Mike himself, rather ragged, but clean and neat enough, was in the lobby, sitting at his ease on one of the big leather chairs, waiting.