A BROKEN WINDOW
For a moment following Freddie’s accident there was silence. Even the little fellow himself was so frightened that he forgot to cry out. But a second or two later he found his voice and set up a series of yells.
“Oh! Oh! Get me out! Help me, Bert!” he begged.
“Oh, Freddie, you poor boy!” gasped Nan.
“Is he dead? Will we ever get him up?” Flossie wanted to know, and she burst into tears.
“Yes! Yes! I’ll get him out! He can’t fall any farther!” shouted Bert. “I’ll lift him out in a minute! You’re all right, Freddie,” he went on. “Don’t cry any more!”
“I am not all right!” wailed the little chap. “I’m down in a pipe! How can I—be all—all right—when I’m in a pipe?”
He was crying and Flossie was sobbing. Nan did not know what to do.
Bert, however, seemed to know what he was about. He hurried to the edge of the drain pipe, down which his small brother had slipped, and began to consider the best way to get Freddie out.
And while Bert is doing that I shall take just a moment to tell my new readers something about the four children. They were first introduced to you in the book called “The Bobbsey Twins,” and in that you read about Mr. Richard Bobbsey and his wife, Mary, who lived in the eastern city of Lakeport on Lake Metoka. Mr. Bobbsey owned a lumberyard there.