"Have we got to walk?" asked Nan, as she looked down at her dainty, new shoes which her mother had bought in Chicago.
"No, we don't have to walk. I think this is our automobile coming now," replied Mr. Bobbsey, and he smiled at his wife.
Bert and Nan heard a rumbling sound back of the rough, wooden railroad station. Flossie and Freddie were too busy watching and listening to some blue jays in a tree overhead to pay attention to much else. But as the rumbling sound grew louder Bert saw a big wagon approaching, drawn by two powerful horses.
"Where's the automobile?" asked the boy, with a look at his father.
"I was just joking," said Mr. Bobbsey. "The roads here are too rough for autos. Lumber wagons are about all that can get through."
"Are we going in that wagon?" Nan demanded.
Before her father could answer the man driving the big horses called to them to stop, and when they did he spoke to Mr. Bobbsey.
"Are you the folks I'm expected to take out to the Watson timber tract?" the driver asked.
"Well, we are the Bobbseys," said Bert's father.
"Then you're the folks I want!" was the good-natured answer. "Just pile in and make yourselves comfortable. I'll get your baggage in."